[A note before we begin: you'll find bits of medieval English
scattered throughout this story. There's a brief glossary at the
end to help you understand some of the more obscure words.]

The Hand of Fate
by Phil Atcliffe
(Edited by Peace Everett)

A man, asleep in a bed. A commonplace enough sight, but a keen-eyed
observer might notice certain odd things about the scene -- at
least, from the point of view of someone from the late 20th
century.

For a start, although the decor looked ultra-modern -- almost *too*
modern; there was more than a touch of the bridge of the
"Enterprise" about the various bits of furniture and wall panels
around the room -- the bed was quite old-fashioned, as were the
items of clothing scattered about. The bed could date from almost
any era -- four-posters have been made more-or-less continuously
for centuries -- but the clothing was most definitely in the
fashion of the early years of the 20th century.

The other odd thing was the yellow glow which appeared in the
centre of the room. It grew from a point to become a sphere, then
stretched to become a long, tall football shape, and finally
expanded to become a human figure. The glow died and the figure
spoke. The voice, somewhat muffled by the helmet, was deep and
sonorous, the kind of voice that one didn't just hear, but *felt*
in one's bones. "Herbert George Wells...."

The man in the bed stirred and sat up. He groped for a pair of
old-fashioned glasses and touched a bedside control panel before
calling out, "Who's there?"

"Herbert George Wells, You Are Needed."

The lights in the room began to come on, revealing a well-built
woman in a tight-fitting outfit reminiscent of Superman's. It
featured a blue shirt and tights, but the boots, cape and "briefs"
-- which were more like a girdle, extending a third of the way up
the torso and rising to a point just below the breasts -- were all
golden, as were the gauntlets and a helmet that covered the
complete face of the wearer, revealing only her eyes. There was no
chest emblem; instead, a short chain around the woman's neck
supported a large gold amulet.

"Who are you?" snapped Wells. "How did you get in here? What do you
want?"

"I Am Doctor Fate. I Require Your Help To Preserve The Society In
Which You Live. You Must Rectify An Error Which Imperils The Future
Of Your 'Utopia'."

"I beg your pardon?" replied Wells, fighting to wake up fully. "An
error? What sort of error? And how does it endanger this world?"

"You Enlisted The Aid Of Clark Kent And Lois Lane To Remove A Curse
>From Their Souls."

"Why, yes... yes, I did. And we succeeded," said Wells in some
amazement. Fewer than a half-a-dozen people knew about that, and
this intruder was none of those.

"You Stopped The Curse From Being Cast. That Was Well Done, For
That Curse Could Have Prevented Your World From Existing. But The
Cost Of Your Success Was Allowing Baron Tempos To Exile Sir Charles
And Marry The Lady Loisette. Tempos' Triumph Was An Imbalance In
The Eternal Struggle Between Good And Evil, Order And Chaos."

"But... but, we corrected that! I took Mr and Mrs Kent to a later
era, where they were able to right that balance by defeating Tempus
Tex as the Lone Rider and Miss Lulu."

"Yes, But Between Those Eras Lie Centuries In Which Evil Has An
Undeserved Advantage. Know You, Herbert George Wells, That Your
World Faces A Dire Threat, And It Is From That Interval That This
Threat Will Arise. Unless You Act, This Utopia In Which You Dwell
Will End In Fire And Chaos, And No Civilisation Will Arise To
Replace It."

"Unless *I* act? But how? What *is* this threat, and what must I do
to thwart it?"

"You Need Only Know That The Threat Arises From the Legacy Of Baron
Tempos, And From A Further Curse Cast By His Sorcerer At The
Baron's Orders. You Must Return To That Time And Prevent The Baron
>From Marrying Lady Loisette. She Must Marry Sir Charles, Of Her Own
Free Will. You Must Also Confront The Sorcerer."

"But... but if Sir Charles breaks his exile to marry the Lady, the
original curse will be cast, Mrs Kent will die on her wedding
night, and this era will not exist in any case! This is
impossible!" He glared at the gold-and-blue figure. "Who *are* you?
I don't believe in this threat of yours -- *I* think that you're
another of Tempus' plots to bring down this 'boring' civilisation
which he hates so much. Well, I'm not going to help you!"

The eye-slits of the helmet began to glow, a blazing red. Wells
froze. He wanted to move, to get away from the piercing gaze of
those scarlet fires, but he was paralysed. But then, he stopped
*wanting* to move, as images flooded into his mind. 

Later, Wells could not remember any more than a minute fraction of
what he had seen in those few moments, but it did not trouble him;
even though most of what he saw faded quickly, he knew, deep in the
depths of his soul, that the being whom he faced was not a tool of
Tempus. This was a good woman-- no, a man *and* a woman, merged in
the one, currently female, form; mortals, but raised to
near-godhood, charged with an awesome responsibility to act as an
agent of one of the sides in the unremitting battle to which
she/he/they had referred earlier, ranging across time and space to
meet and combat the dark forces whom they faced.

Finally, the red glow died and Wells could move again. But now, he
had no need to do so. Instead, he nodded to his companion. "Thank
you," he said humbly. "I hope you will forgive my doubting you."

"There Is No Need For Forgiveness. The Eternal Battle Requires
Wisdom As Well As Strength, And To Know One's Friends -- And Foes
-- Is One Of The Beginnings Of Wisdom.

"You Need Not Concern Yourself With The Kents. Their Marriage Has
Been Consummated, Uncursed, And This Will Not -- *Cannot* --
Change. Their Marriage And Physical Union Is A Nexus Event; All
Possible Timelines Now Encompass It. Your World *Will* Come To
Pass. What Is Of Concern Now Is Its Continued Survival."

"Very well," said Wells. "But how am I to do this? I am merely a
scholar and inventor, not a fighting man. And how do I deal with
the sorcerer?"

"You Will Need Allies. Take Your Time Machine Rather Than The
Soul-Tracer, And Enlist The Aid of Clark Kent And Lois Lane. Their
Intelligence And Wisdom, And The Power Of Superman, Will Serve To
Deal With The Baron. As For The Sorcerer, All You Need Do Is
Confront Him; I Will Be Watching, And When You Are With Him, I Will
Come."

"Why do you need me? Can't you just confront him by yourself?"

"No. The Sorcerer Has Made A Bargain With The Forces Of Chaos For
His Power. Part Of The Terms Of The Bargain Prevents Me From
Attacking Him Directly. However, I May Employ Agents As They Have
Done, And May Act Through Them. If You Are Within 3 Metres Of Him,
I Will Be Able To Penetrate His Defences, And Will Come."

"I see. Well, I suppose I should get started. Is there any sort of
urgency to this -- I mean, do I need to leave immediately, or is
there time for me to make a proper toilet?"

"You May Prepare Yourself As You See Fit. You Should Know, However,
That The Longer You Delay, The More Difficult It Will Be For You To
Succeed."

"In that case, I'll dress and be on my way."

"Good." Fate began to glow, and then gradually vanished, "her"
final words hanging in the air even as they faded to silence.
"Remember, Herbert George Wells, Fate Is Watching...."

                    *         *         *

It was a lovely sunny morning in Metropolis. It was cold, but not
unpleasantly so; in fact, the temperature was just low enough to be
stimulating, and the sunshine encouraged people to get out and
about. It was a good day to bustle about and enjoy the exhilarating
contrast between the cold and the glow of warmth that came from
physical exertion.

'Unless, of course,' Lois thought to herself, 'you come from
Krypton, in which case you don't even *notice* the cold.' She was
watching her husband, wearing nothing but a black tank top and a
pair of old gym shorts, clean up after a late breakfast. It was
their day off, and Martha and Ellen had just left with Laura for a
few hours of grandmotherly... well, they had appeared at the front
door, scooped up Laura and bustled out of the house so quickly that
Lois wasn't quite sure *what* they had in mind, but she wasn't too
concerned, even if her mother's protestations that she wasn't to
worry about a *thing* had had precisely the opposite effect.
Martha's chuckles hadn't helped, either....

As for herself, she was planning to enjoy this unexpected time
alone with Clark by taking a leisurely stroll through Centennial
Park... to begin with. The thought of some peace and quiet together
was wonderful, even if the outside temperature meant that she was
bundled up in a couple of layers of the warmest clothes that she
had. She might have resented Clark's freedom from the need to do
likewise, but hugging him was her favourite way to warm up, and
thick clothes would have just got in the way. 'Besides,' she
thought, grinning inwardly, 'it means I get to see him dressed like
*that* in any weather... Yum!'

Clark finished the washing-up and zipped into the bedroom, emerging
scant seconds later dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel
shirt over it. He went over to the coat rack and picked up his and
Lois' parkas. He handed Lois hers and was looking around for his
glasses when the doorbell rang.

As Lois went to the door, pulling on her parka as she went, Clark
looked through it to see if he needed to go to super-speed to find
his glasses *immediately*. He didn't, but the sight of their
visitor was not exactly reassuring. "Oh, boy...." he muttered.

Lois, lacking x-ray vision, was equally surprised when she opened
the door to find Wells waiting outside. "Mr Wells?" she cried.

"Good morning, Mrs Kent," replied Wells in his usual deferential
manner. "May I come in?"

"Um... yes. Please do...." Lois looked at Clark, who looked back.
They both had the feeling that their relaxing morning was shot, but
had no idea why. "We haven't seen you since the baby was born...."
Lois said, somewhat weakly.

Wells brightened. "I was there? Oh my, yes, what a good idea. I
must make a note to do that. I trust the young lady is well?"

"Yes, Laura's fine," Lois replied, stepping aside to allow him to
enter. Making small-talk about her daughter felt bizarre, but that
wasn't unusual when she encountered Wells. "She's not here, though;
both her grandmothers are looking after her this morning."

"Ah, then you don't have to worry about her; she's in good hands.
I'm sorry to have to forgo the pleasure of meeting her, but I must
admit that I knew that you would be alone today, or I would have
chosen another time to bother you."

Lois felt somewhat reassured by that; she had been concerned that
whatever Wells wanted might have involved their daughter, but it
seemed that he'd deliberately arrived at a time when Laura wasn't
here, and was in "good hands" -- so now all she had to worry about
was he wanted Clark and herself for!

She followed the visitor into the living room, where he greeted
Clark. "Good morning, Mr Kent. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you
like this, but I'm afraid I need your help again."

"I knew you were going to say that!" griped Lois, not at all
pleased to see her scarce free time with Clark about to disappear.
"What is it *this* time? What's Tempus done *now?*" Her voice had
got rougher and rougher as she spoke, until it was almost a snarl.
She seemed to realise this, because she came over to Clark and, in
an attempt to lighten her own mood, quietly remarked, "At least it
can't be about the curse -- or if it is, we're in *big* trouble! I
mean, our marriage has been well and truly consummated, and we've
even got a little girl out of it."

Her voice had acquired a worried tone as she'd gone on, so Clark,
even though he shared the same anxieties, put one arm around her
and grinned down at her as he gave her a gentle hug. "You're
telling me...." he whispered.

Unfortunately, Lois' attempt to talk to Clark sotto voce hadn't
been as sotto as she might have liked, because Wells chimed in,
"I'm afraid, Mrs Kent, that it *is* connected with our endeavours
in the past." Clark and Lois both looked at him in alarm, so he
hurried on, somewhat embarrassed, "Oh, not the curse. I'm pleased
to say that you need not fear any further problems of that kind
with your.... ah, marital relations."

Clark let out a huge sigh, which only outdid Lois' by virtue of his
larger lung capacity. Wells continued, anxious to change the
subject, "No, but it appears that your sacrifice as Sir Charles and
Lady Loisette, while preventing the curse on your souls from being
cast, has had other effects that are... less desirable."

"We knew that," said Lois, "But didn't we fix that as the Lone
Rider and Lulu?"

"Apparently not," murmured Wells apologetically. "It seems that
allowing Baron Tempos to triumph, combined with the six or seven
centuries between the two eras which we visited, has led to a
situation which threatens the future of the period in which I now
make my home."

His voice took on a worried tone, combined with a note of entreaty.
"Mr and Mrs Kent," he asked, "Whenever I have met you previously,
it has been to safeguard my world by preventing interference in
your lives; now, however, there is no threat to you, only to the
future which you will help create, but your aid is nonetheless
vital to preserve that future. Will you help me?"

Lois and Clark looked at one another. Clark quirked an eyebrow;
Lois sighed again and nodded, then turned back to Wells and said,
"Yes, we'll help. What do we have to do? And *when?*"

Wells smiled and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief,
overcome by emotion for a moment. Once he had regained control of
himself, he began, "Thank you. To begin with, we must return to the
time of Sir Charles and Lady Loisette and prevent her marriage to
the Baron."

"Wait a minute," said Clark. "I'm not going to be much help if I'm
in exile. And I don't like Lois being at that thug's mercy by
herself. Or do I have to break my promise and return to England?"
This was looking less and less attractive by the minute.

"Oh, that won't be a problem. Mr Kent. You see, we will not be
using my soul-tracer to make the time journey; we will use my
original time machine, and so both you and Mrs Kent will make the
trip as yourselves, in your present incarnations. There will, so to
speak, be two of each of you there while you are in that era."

"*That* should make things easier," said Lois. "Tempus' goons won't
have a chance against Superman! So what do we have to do?"

"Well, our main mission is, I'm told, to ensure that the Baron does
not marry Lady Loisette, so that she can marry Sir Charles. But it
must be by her own free will, so I would assume that we must
somehow release her from the promise that she made to Tempos. In
addition, we must, at some point in our endeavours, get within 3
metres of the Baron's sorcerer; this is to ensure that he does not
cast *any* curses, on anyone."

Lois' eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute!" she cried, suddenly wary.
"'I'm told'? 'I assume'? This is starting to sound like you don't
*know!* What's going on here? Who's doing the telling? And what's
their stake in this?"

Wells bowed his head towards Lois. "Very astute, Mrs Kent. You are
quite correct; I am indeed acting at the behest of another. Like
yourselves, I was contacted by someone and asked to undertake this
mission. I know very little about this person, but I can assure you
that she is not only trustworthy, but a valuable ally. Indeed, it
is she who will deal with the sorcerer if we are able to get close
enough to him."

"I dunno..." said Lois, not convinced. "I don't like being in the
dark like this. Who is this woman? How's about a name and a few
details?"

"As you wish, although I doubt that what little I know will
enlighten you to any greater extent than it did me." Wells related
the story of his visitor to the Kents, finishing with, "I know that
you have no reason to believe me. I can only say that I was as
sceptical as you are now, but I have been completely convinced of
the truth and probity of this woman -- *and* man. I cannot convince
you as I was; I can only ask you to trust me as I trust her -- or,
rather, them."

Lois and Clark looked at one another. The expression on her face
asked an obvious question, to which Clark replied quietly, "I think
we have to, Lois. If this 'Doctor Fate' is up to no good, then
we're only going to find out by going along with her plans -- and
if we don't do what she asks, and she *is* a good guy, then a lot
of people could suffer for it."

"Yeah, you're right," said Lois downheartedly, "But I hate this
kind of uncertainty -- not knowing who's right and who's wrong,
groping around in the dark...."

Clark smiled at her reassuringly. That was a very un-Lois-like
sentiment, and he guessed it came from her disappointment at having
their day off interrupted. Forcing himself to ignore the more
pleasant memories that were invoked by the word 'groping', he tried
to encourage her. "Think of it as like an assignment -- is this
mysterious doctor all she seems? What's so important about this
sorcerer? Sounds to me like a job for Lane and Kent, investigative
reporters...."

Lois had to return his smile at that. And he was right; this was
the kind of puzzle that was right up their alley. She hugged him,
soaking up happiness just from being close to him. They were such
a great team together; sorcerers and mysterious doctors had better
watch out!

"Okay," she said, letting him go and going over to the couch to put
on her boots. "Let's get going."


They finished getting dressed and Wells led them outside and into
a nearby alley, where they found the time machine. "You're lucky
nobody noticed this -- it's almost too much like something out of
the George Pal movie of your book to be real," commented Lois.

"Oh, no, Mrs Kent," replied Wells. "That couldn't happen. You see,
it wasn't here until a few seconds ago." At her questioning look,
he continued, "With the help of some people from my adopted era, I
have equipped the machine with a device that allows me to park it
just out of phase with the time-stream. That way, no-one can reach
it, and I can summon it whenever I wish. It's a great help when I
travel to... less civilised eras."

"Handy...." murmured Lois.

"As for Mr Pal... I understand that he based the design of Mr
Taylor's time machine on a little sketch that I made for him  -- on
a paper napkin, as I recall...." Ignoring the surprised reactions
of the others, Wells began to work the controls. "Are we ready?
Very well, our destination is northern France, a fortnight after
the fight between Sir Charles and the Baron...."

                    *         *         *

The time machine appeared in a clearing in a forest. The sun was
high in the sky, and Lois was suddenly bathed in sweat, her warm
clothes much too heavy for what felt like summer weather. Clark, of
course, was completely unaffected.

She climbed down from the machine and told Clark that she was going
to take a couple of layers off. He nodded, having quickly scanned
the surrounding forest and found nothing nearby that was bigger
than a squirrel, although there was a group of men about two miles
away, coming towards them slowly along a path that led to the
clearing.

Lois was back soon, looking much more comfortable in just her jeans
and a loose blouse. She dumped the rest of her clothes onto the
time machine, except for her parka which she slung over one
shoulder. She came over to Clark and took his glasses off. "You
won't be needing *these*," she said, putting them into the pocket
of one of her shirts.

Wells took a small device out of one of his own pockets and did
something to it. The time machine disappeared with its familiar
whine. He put the device back into his pocket and turned to his
companions. "Good," he said, "That's organised. Now, I need to tell
you a few things before the others join us...."

"Others? What others?"

"Ah, well, I took the precaution of doing a little preliminary
reconnaissance before I came to see you, Mrs Kent. As Mr Kent is no
doubt aware, a group of men is headed this way and will be here in
a few minutes." He looked at Clark, who nodded in confirmation.
"They are Sir Charles and some of his band, the 'Fox's Men'. In the
two weeks that have elapsed since Lady Loisette promised to marry
the Baron and Sir Charles accepted exile, they have left England
and wandered through France. I believe that they may be heading for
the town a few miles to the south, possibly to take up service with
the local lord, but more likely to join the next group of Crusaders
sailing for the Holy Land. Obviously, we want to prevent that, and
I thought that this would be a good place to meet them and enlist
their help, in case we need it. Then, after we have spoken to Sir
Charles, we can go and rescue Lady Loisette and capture Tempos."

"Sounds like you've got it all worked out," said Lois. "But are you
sure that she isn't married already? I mean, two whole weeks?
Tempos could have got his tame bishop to marry them days ago -- she
could be *pregnant* by now!" She grimaced at that revolting
prospect (the Baron, not pregnancy -- after all, she now knew what
*that* was like).

"Yes, that would be unfortunate. However, I checked, and it seems
that the Baron has decided that his wedding should not be a rushed
affair, but, rather, one more suited to his rank. Or perhaps his
'tame bishop', as you put it, was not as tame as he might have
liked. In any case, the ceremony will not take place for at least
another three weeks."

Lois exhaled in relief. Clark, who had been listening thoughtfully,
took up the conversation. "Have you thought about how we're going
to explain me? I mean, I don't want people to be worshipping me as
an angel, or scared because I'm a demon or a witch. They can't hurt
me, but we don't want them attacking you or Lois in panic."

"True, true... I have given that a certain amount of thought, but
to no real conclusion, I regret to say. The best that I can come up
with is to tell them what is more or less the truth -- *not* that
you're from another planet; I'm afraid that that would be beyond
their understanding -- but to say that you are a visitor from
another land who has been granted certain powers in order to fight
evil. It would help, I think, if you only used your powers as
Superman. The name won't mean anything to them, but your costume
could be represented as a foreign type of surcoat, and the idea of
a knight invested with magical abilities for a quest is something
that forms part of the cultural background of these people."

"Okay," said Clark thoughtfully, "But I won't change my clothes
until after we talk to them for a while. No sense in overwhelming
them with everything at once."

The three sat down to wait in the shade of the forest. Lois leaned
up against Clark, who happily wrapped his arms around her. They
chatted inconsequentially for a while, until a group of ten men
emerged from the trees opposite. Four of them were mounted, and the
others were on foot. All looked travel-stained and weary, and two
of them -- one in particular -- had familiar faces.

The newcomers halted in surprise when they saw the time travellers.
Motioning to Lois and Clark to stay where they were, Wells got up
and walked towards the small band. One or two of the men laid their
hands on the hilts of their swords or unslung their longbows, but
they relaxed when Wells, obviously unarmed and, to their eyes,
harmless, approached them and called out cheerily, "Good afternoon,
gentlemen! And to you, Sir Charles!"

"Good morrow to you, friend," came the slightly weary voice of one
of the riders. Sir Charles, for it was he, dismounted and walked
stiffly over to Wells. As he approached, he frowned, obviously
trying to work out why Wells seemed familiar. "We had not expected
to meet anyone on this road, much less one who knows us. And, in
truth, I feel *I* know *you*...." He paused for a moment, then said
thoughtfully, "Sir... Clark, of Kent, is it not?" His voice became
tight, almost harsh. "We met on that accursed day when I was
banished from England, and my lady...." Charles stopped, not
wanting to say anything further.

"Yes, yes, a most regrettable business," replied Wells. "And... I'm
afraid there was a slight misunderstanding there. The Baron was
rather impatient when we met, you might remember, so it seemed to
be a good idea at the time for him to think that was my name,
rather than have to make complicated explanations. My name is
actually Herbert Wells."

"Wells? Are you then from the West Country, rather than Kent? Your
voice has not the sound of it, nor your clothes the look -- though,
truth to tell, I have yet to see another garbed in the manner of
you and your companions." 

"Well, no, you wouldn't have. You see, I have, for some years, been
living in a far distant land -- *very* far distant -- and my
clothes come from there. But that's not important. What *is*
important is why I'm here, and that's what I want to talk to you
about"

Sir Charles looked at him somewhat suspiciously. "Say on, then. It
is in my mind that this meeting cannot be by chance."

"You're quite right; I was waiting for you. Oh, but you needn't
think that I'm some minion of Baron Tempos, sent to check up on
you, or even kill you." Sir Charles' face showed quite clearly that
he *had* been considering the possibility. "Quite the opposite, in
fact. I and my companions are here to help you and Lady Loisette
against the Baron."

"There is no help for us," said Charles grimly. "I have chosen
exile over death, and she... she will be his bride, if she is not
already." His face reflected the pain that the thought brought.

"Ah, but things are not as hopeless as you might think. You see,
the sacrifice that you and Lady Loisette made for each other was
truly noble, but I'm afraid that Baron Tempos really can't be
allowed to get away with that sort of thing, so I went for help.
Some very *special* help. Come and meet some friends of mine."

They walked across the clearing, leaving Charles' men to relax
where they were. As they neared Lois and Clark, the couple stood
up. Lois came out into the sunlight to greet them; Clark hung back.
At his first sight of the woman, Sir Charles stopped in his tracks,
stunned. Then he raced to Lois, grasping her by the shoulders in
incredulous, joyful amazement. "My lady?" he cried. "What miracle
is this? How came you here?!"

He would have embraced her, kissed her, but he was halted by the
sound of a stern voice from behind the woman -- a voice that was
all too familiar to the knight. "No miracle, Sir Charles," it said,
"And I'm afraid that that *isn't* Lady Loisette -- not quite....
Let me introduce you; her name is Lois, and she's *my* wife."

The man in the strange clothes stepped forward, out of the shadows
of the trees, and Sir Charles recoiled in horror. It was *him!*
This man was his exact double, even as the woman had the face and
form of his lost love.

He stepped back a few paces, rather unsteadily, and his sword came
out. He raised it and swung it back and forth from one person to
another, his hands shaking. "What deviltry is this?" he spat. "What
black magic have you employed to torture me thus?"

"No, no, no...." said Wells from behind him. Sir Charles, who had
momentarily forgotten the other man, immediately dashed to one
side, away from all three time travellers, then turned to face
them, holding them at bay with his sword as before.

The Fox's Men had heard their leader's cry and were quick to
respond when they saw him with sword in hand. They reached for
their weapons, and Sir Charles was soon reinforced; Lois, Clark and
Wells found themselves surrounded by men, each with either a drawn
sword or with a longbow, an arrow nocked and ready.

Clark groaned to himself. This was getting *way* out of control,
and fast. He wasn't particularly worried by the weapons -- swords
and arrows were no problem to him, and he was sure that he could
protect Lois and Wells -- but they were trying to *help* these
people, and getting into a fight was *not* going to be the way to
gain their trust.

"Sir Charles, *please!*" cried Wells, sounding a little desperate.
"These are the friends that I mentioned. There's no black magic,
and no-one has any wish to torture you. Please, let me explain...."

Sir Charles, the situation now under control -- or so he thought --
managed to regain enough control of himself to consider Wells'
words. He was still angry, but was reasonable with it. "Very well,"
he said harshly, "Speak! But let your words be the truth, for I
tell you plain that I see deceit and treachery in this meeting."

"Thank you," said Wells. "Firstly, let me apologise for the shock
which you suffered. I had intended to warn you that you were about
to meet people who greatly resemble yourself and Lady Loisette, but
you caught sight of the lady before I was able to do so.

"Now, let me present you to these people." He gestured to Clark.
"This is Lord Kal, a nobleman of the house of El of Krypton, and
*this*...." He bowed slightly in Lois' direction. "...is the Lady
Lois, his wife, formerly of the house of Lane of Metropolis."

Lois rolled her eyes at her "title", and Clark grinned. Wells
looked rather pleased with himself for that bit of invention, and
went on, "They are quite prominent citizens of the land from which
we come, and when they heard of your unfortunate plight, not to
mention the remarkable resemblance between themselves and you and
Lady Loisette, they volunteered to come and try to help you and
thwart Baron Tempos."

Sir Charles seemed somewhat mollified by Wells' words, but also
depressed. "I thank them, and you, sir, if this be so. But what can
two people, noble or base, do to help? It is *done* -- I am exiled
and my lady is to wed the Baron, if she has not already...."

"Ah, well, I can reassure you on that score at least. Lady Loisette
is not married; Tempos has set the date for the ceremony for three
weeks' time -- plenty of time for us to ensure that it does not
take place."

"But how? I am exiled, I tell you, and they are in England, where
I am sworn not to go. Even if I dared return, how can a mere dozen
of us face the Baron's guards, and his accursed sorcerer? My lady
will be close guarded; he will not risk losing her when he is so
close to marrying her -- *and* her lands!"

Sir Charles looked away. "This is madness. Your companions have my
thanks, but they are but two...." His voice trailed away.

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you. But, you see, I knew about Tempos'
army, *and* his sorcerer; that's why I asked Lord Kal to help. He
is no ordinary man. He has a quest, and a noble one -- to defeat
evil wherever he finds it, and to ensure that truth and justice
prevail. To help him in his quest, he has been granted amazing
powers, powers that make him more than a match for the Baron and
his minions. That's how we managed to come here so quickly, and how
we found you on your travels. If you will let us help you, we can
give you the chance to stop Tempos and save Lady Loisette.

"I see that you don't believe me -- well, why should you?
Fortunately, there's an easy way to prove that I'm telling you the
truth. Just get... say, four of your men to shoot at Lord Kal, one
after the other... and watch."

The next few minutes were spent in heated discussion. Sir Charles
was unconvinced, declaring that he had no wish to murder a
stranger. Even when Clark assured him that he wasn't at all worried
about being shot at, the knight refused, saying that madness was no
protection against an arrow, and he would not widow someone who
looked so like his own love. It wasn't until Lois blithely informed
him that she had no intention of being a widow, and suggested that
he get his men to aim to *miss* if he was so worried -- they could
do that, couldn't they? *Everyone* had heard of the prowess in
archery of the Fox's Men -- that he finally consented to the test,
albeit doubtfully.

While the archers walked back across the clearing, Wells asked
Clark to change into his costume. "Lord Kal always wears the arms
of his house in open battle," he told Sir Charles. Clark quickly
spun into the suit. Lois smiled -- seeing him do that still
thrilled her, even after all this time; Wells was impressed,
despite his "historical" knowledge; and Charles and his men were
frankly stunned.

Superman moved away from the group of watchers and stood
impassively while the archers raised their bows and took aim. They
loosed their shafts almost simultaneously, but there was a small
gap between the first arrow and the last, which was all that
Superman needed. In quick succession -- but not *too* quick; the
people watching needed to see what was happening -- he grabbed the
first arrow out of the air, let the second hit his chest and
shatter, incinerated the third with heat vision and, finally, used
the arrow that he was holding to impale the last one, splitting it
in two. He then threw the first arrow across the clearing; it
whizzed past the startled faces of the archers to embed itself,
right up to the feathers, in a tree.

Dead silence reigned over the clearing. No-one moved, except for
Lois, who bounced up to Superman and kissed him. "Pretty fancy
moves, *Kal*," she whispered in his ear. Clark chuckled at that and
gave her a quick hug.

The by-play between the couple, so simple, everyday and natural,
broke the paralysis that had the watching company in its grip.
Three or four of the men began to back away from the unearthly
figure in red and blue; Friar Harry raised his crucifix, as if to
ward off evil, and Clark was sure he heard a muttered "Great Shades
of Caesar!"; but Sir Charles stood his ground, though his sword was
lowered and his expression dumbfounded.

"You see?" cried Wells. "And he has greater powers yet. But you
needn't be afraid; there's no black magic or witchcraft involved.
Lord Kal was given his abilities by his father, a great scholar of
the land of Krypton, when he undertook what is known as the
Never-Ending Battle -- to leave Krypton to fight for truth and
justice, and to oppose evil, tyranny and corruption wherever it may
be. It is the highest, most noble quest that any Kryptonian can
undertake, and few do, but Lord Kal was raised to help others, and
the Battle is surely the ultimate expression of that wish...."

Clark had caught on to Wells' reasoning; presenting himself in this
quasi-mythical light was probably the best way to get the Fox's
Men, not to mention their leader, to accept him without regarding
him as something supernatural -- or worse, divine. Wells' rhetoric
was a little high-flown for Clark's taste, but the tale he told was
pretty close to the truth, so Clark decided to add his own slant to
the story. He nodded in confirmation of what Wells had said.
"That's right. My father, Jor of El, knew that dark times were
coming to the world beyond Krypton, so he gave me these powers by
his arts while he stayed behind to defend his land and help his
people. If I were to return to Krypton, I'd just be an ordinary
man, like you; but while I'm elsewhere on the earth, I have these
abilities that seem magical to others, but are really just the
result of my father's study of God's handiwork."

Clark realised that his own rhetoric was getting equally
high-flown, but it seemed to be working; Sir Charles had lost the
stupefied expression, Harry had lowered his crucifix, and the
others had stopped backing away. Clark decided to push his
advantage. "Look, let me prove my goodwill. You've seen some of
what I can do, so you know that I'm powerful. Now let me
demonstrate that I'm on your side by helping you, in a way that
no-one else could." He beckoned Lois over, whispering in her ear.
She looked surprised, but nodded.

"This is my wife, who means as much to me as Lady Loisette does to
you," Clark said to Sir Charles. He took Lois' hand and led her
over to his counterpart, saying in his most serious manner, "I
leave her in your care, to protect and guard against my return,
while I go to rescue *your* lady from Baron Tempos. Will you and
your men swear to defend her as you would Lady Loisette?"

The challenge caught Charles off-guard. For a moment, he looked as
though he wasn't quite sure what to do, but the call to his honour
was too great to resist. Eventually, he took Lois' hand from Clark
and led her over to Friar Harry. "As you wish, Lord Kal," he said.
He sounded troubled. "But for how long? Whatever I was in England,
here I am a common man-at-arms, as are we all. We have little money
and no means to keep your lady according to her rank...."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Clark laughed. "With any sort of
luck, I should be back in less than an hour." He took off, rising
slowly, waving to Lois, who returned it with some vigour, than
accelerated and disappeared from view almost instantly. Behind him
were a group of men who looked even more flabbergasted than they
had a few minutes before; his wife, who whispered, "Be careful...."
before turning to watch the others with a slight smile; and Wells,
who sat in the shade of a tree, looking thoughtful.

                    *         *         *

Clark had every intention of being careful. Having shared Sir
Charles' life for a short while, he found that he could remember
certain basic details from that time, like the location of Baron
Tempos' castle and Lady Loisette's lands. The sky was clear over
both England and France, so he stayed at high altitude -- high
enough not to be seen from the ground, although he, of course,
could see everything -- while he looked for Lady Loisette. He had
no luck at any of Loisette's manors, which didn't surprise him in
the least; knowing Tempos, he was certain that the Baron would have
her under guard, and where better than at "his" castle (which was
actually a royal castle, but Tempos used it as his personal
citadel).

Sure enough, he found Lady Loisette in a tower room at the castle.
Half-out of the room, actually, because she was leaning on a
window-ledge, staring into the distance. This looked perfect -- he
could swoop down and grab her so fast that no-one would even see
him -- but, as usual, life wasn't so accommodating; even as he
began to descend at super-speed, she turned her head, obviously
listening to something, and then went inside.

'So much for the easy way,' he thought. As he continued his dive,
he looked through the wall to see her sitting on a bed, an elderly
woman (a maid? Companion? Chaperon? *Guard?*) brushing her hair. He
decided to keep away until he had a better idea of just who the
other woman was; if she was loyal to Loisette, then he could take
her, too, but it would be just like Tempos to set one of his own
people to watch his intended bride, in which case Clark didn't want
her to have any inkling that the lady was about to leave.

His fears turned out to be justified. The woman finished brushing
Loisette's hair, then braided it and put it up. After helping her
"mistress" into a gown, she was dismissed quite curtly by the
younger woman and went out, locking the door behind her.

'*Definitely* one of Tempos' servants,' thought Clark.

A quick check showed that there were no guards outside the chamber
door, and none watching the tower, so Clark felt safe to approach
it. He hovered outside the window. "Lady Loisette...." he called
softly. No response.

He called again. This time she heard him, and her face lit up with
astonished, hopeful recognition at the sound of his voice. She
turned to see Clark step in through the window, and she ran to him,
her arms wide and her eyes filling with tears of joy. "Charles!"

Clark hated to do it, but he grabbed her shoulders before she could
reach him and held her, gently but firmly, at arm's length. "Lady
Loisette," he began quietly, "I'm really sorry, but I'm not who you
think I am." She looked at him for a long moment, confused and
hurt, her hopes of a few seconds ago suddenly crashing down around
her. The sight of her tearful face, so like Lois', tore at Clark's
heart, and he went on hurriedly, "I know I look like him -- quite
a lot -- but I'm *not* Sir Charles. I'm... er, Lord Kal of Krypton,
and I'm here to take you *to* Sir Charles, if you'll trust me."

"But... but..." she stammered, not really taking in what he was
saying, only that he wasn't her love. "Your face... your voice...
they are Charles', to the life. How can this be? Who *are* you?"

"I've told you my name. I know this is hard for you to accept --
you should have heard Sir Charles' reaction! -- but we can clear
this up really quickly once we're away from here, if you'll just
trust me."

Loisette seemed not to have heard his last few words, seizing
instead on his off-hand comment about Sir Charles. "You have *seen*
him?" she cried. "When? Where? How is he?"

Clark began to worry that Loisette was making too much noise, and
with justification. Footsteps on the stairs heralded the return of
the old woman, accompanied by a pair of men-at-arms. "Shhhh...." he
whispered, "Yes, I've seen him. He's fine -- he's alive, well and
free, and he misses you a lot. That's why I'm here: to get you out
of here, away from Baron Tempos, and to take you to him. But we've
got to get going; that maid of yours is on her way back, and she's
got a couple of guards with her...."

"Oh. Yes, of course -- I am to ride this afternoon, and I go
nowhere without Maud and as many guards as my lord Tempos thinks
enough to 'protect' me...." Her mood, bitter at the thought of
Tempos' "protection", changed to concern. "You must hide! Quickly,
before they come! I will not be gone long, and tonight we can
escape from this place."

She quickly searched the room for a suitable hiding place, decided
that under the bed was the only option, and tried to drag Clark
over to it. He didn't move. He'd hoped to get Loisette away without
anyone noticing, but she was as difficult to deal with when she was
like this as Lois had ever been, and he was resigned to having her
escape discovered almost immediately. He certainly wasn't going to
hide under the bed -- an adventure in medieval England was one
thing; French farce was quite another!

"No, my lady!" he said firmly, reaching out to take her by the
shoulders, holding her again at arm's length. "Believe me, I do
*not* need to hide. What *we* need, though, is to get out of here.
Now, please, come with me, and I'll have you back with Sir Charles
in less than a minute."

She stared up at him, confused, worried and disbelieving, and he
met her eyes, silently willing her to trust him. She seemed to see
something in him which reassured her, and she relaxed. "Very well,
my lord..." she said, much calmer now, "But how shall we leave?"
She looked down at herself. "This is not raiment for climbing, and
the men below will surely see us."

"That's no problem. Just trust me, and don't be frightened...."

At that moment, a knock came on the door. "My lady," came the voice
of Maud, "Your escort awaits."

Quickly, Clark scooped Loisette up. She looked surprised at what
might have been considered undue familiarity on his part, but said
nothing. "Now, don't be frightened, okay?" he reassured her. "In
fact, you might want to close your eyes -- don't open them until I
tell you to, and we'll be with Charles, Harry and the others before
you know it."

The knock came again, and Maud called out, "My lady?" The sound of
a key in the lock was the signal for Clark to lift off and flash
out the window. Behind him, he could hear the startled clamour of
Maud and the guards searching the room for the vanished lady.

                    *         *         *

As requested, Loisette had kept her eyes shut from the time that
Clark had left the room in the castle. She was bewildered by the
whole affair, and had no idea what was going on as Clark flew her
to France, but somehow that didn't matter. In a way that she
couldn't understand, she trusted this man, this incredible stranger
who looked so like her beloved Charles. Being in his arms,
something that almost never happened to an unmarried lady of her
station, in *or* out of a bed-chamber, was not threatening, not
even exciting, but brought only balm to her soul. She had not
really believed that he could do what he said, but any chance of
escape, of doing *something*, was better than helplessly waiting
for Tempos to insist that she complete their "bargain". Now,
however, in the timeless peace in which she lay while he worked
whatever wonders he could, she had begun to hope that she would
indeed be reunited with her love.

Clark didn't disappoint her; he touched down lightly by Sir Charles
and gently set Loisette on her feet. "You okay?" he asked softly.
She opened her eyes and nodded, still not quite back to the world
from the depths in which she had been floating while they
travelled. "In that case, there's someone here who wants to see
you...."

She turned and saw Charles. She went to go to him, but there was no
need; he was *there*, and she was crushed against him in a
passionate embrace.

Clark looked away, as did everyone else, and searched for Lois. He
found her on the other side of the clearing and walked over to her.
"Hi."

"Hi," she replied. "I came over here, away from Charles, so as not
to frighten Loisette. He's going to tell her all about us, so maybe
we won't have a repeat of what happened when he saw you. How'd it
go?"

"Okay... though she was as hard to persuade as you are, sometimes.
I guess that figures...."

Lois just looked at him with her (in)famous "Oh, yeah?" expression,
lightened the teeniest bit by the hint of a smile around the
corners of her mouth. Her gaze moved downwards towards a certain
spot on his ribs; she was obviously planning to get him for that.
Clark admitted defeat to himself and decided to keep talking, the
better to distract her and keep her mind focused on what they had
to do; there would be time enough for her revenge later.

"I didn't see Tempos, though, so I'm gonna have to go back for him
later. Unfortunately, they'll have discovered that Lady Loisette is
gone by now, so they might be expecting me. That shouldn't be too
much of a problem."

"Hmmm... I'm not so sure, Clark. Remember what you said about that
sorcerer last time? If the bad guys know that Loisette has escaped,
Tempos might decide to get him to lay another curse. I *really*
don't want to have to go home to a life of abstinence...."

"Good point. But don't worry, honey. It only took me a couple of
minutes to get Loisette; grabbing Tempos won't even take *that*
long, because I don't have to worry about being seen."

"I dunno, Clark. Is anything *ever* that simple for us? Somehow, I
have a bad feeling about this... I think you'd better take me with
you."

"*No*, Lois. I don't want you ge--"

"I think I have to agree with Mrs Kent," Wells interrupted. "You
see, I'm afraid that you may need to take *me*, and if you have to
have one 'helper' along, it might be wise to have two --
particularly if one of them is Mrs Kent. She is... ah, famous, for
helping you in sticky situations, you know...."

Lois' eyebrows went up, and she grinned. She still found it hard to
believe that she was honoured in the future as one of the founders
of Wells' Utopia, but it was nice to hear that she got some
recognition for helping Clark.

Clark looked doubtful. "What do you mean, I may have to take you?"

"Ah, well, you remember that we need to 'confront' Tempos' sorcerer
-- which is to say, get within 3 metres of him. What concerns me is
that Doctor Fate didn't say whether any one of us had to get that
close, or *me* in particular. I've been going over our conversation
in my mind while you were gone, and I can't decide. 'If You Are
Within 3 Metres Of Him,' she said. But which *you*? Singular or
plural?" Wells shook his head. "I just don't know...."

"...and we can't afford to take chances," Clark finished for him.
He didn't like this at all, but he could see that he had no choice.
Wells was right; if this 'Doctor Fate' was going to be of any help
-- and they weren't even sure if she was one of the good guys or
not! -- then the possibility that Wells was the one who had to
confront the sorcerer had to be allowed for. Given that extra
complication, Clark knew from previous experience that Lois was not
going to add to their problems, and might well save everyone's
bacon, as she had many times before.

The decision made, it was time to get going. Clark scooped up Lois
and motioned for Wells to grab hold. "Hop on, Mr Wells."

"Uh... very well," said Wells hesitantly. He came over behind
Superman and spent a few embarrassing moments (for him, not for
Clark) trying to find a secure way to get a grip on Superman. He
wasn't having a lot of success and began to turn a red bright
enough to match the hero's cape.

Finally, Superman set Lois down and put one arm around each of his
companions' waists. "Sorry...." he murmured in Lois' ear. Lois
kissed him; she could put up with being carried by Clark one-handed
-- after all, *her* arms were free....

The three lifted into the air slowly, allowing Wells time to get
used to the sensation, then shot into the sky. Lois wrapped her
arms around Clark and kissed him again. He smiled, but had to
concentrate on flying.

                    *         *         *

They touched down by a clump of trees a short distance outside the
castle walls, and Clark spun back into his ordinary clothes. To
Lois' surprised look, he replied, "You and Mr Wells did a good job;
you've got *me* nervous now. So, like Mr Wells, I thought a little
reconnaissance was in order -- x-ray reconnaissance." He frowned
and began to sweep the castle with his super-vision. "Hmmm...
everything looks quiet. Almost *too* quiet -- they must have
discovered that Lady Loisette's gone, but you wouldn't know it from
watching them.

"There's the Baron, but he's calmly eating in the main hall.
Doesn't look like anyone's told *him* that Loisette's gone...."

"Maybe they haven't," Lois said. "It's only been... what, less than
ten minutes since you got here the first time? If she tried to
escape by herself, without super-help, she couldn't have gone far.
This Maud woman and the guards are probably running around,
desperately searching for her, not wanting to have to tell the
Baron that she's gone. He won't be pleased when he finds out...."

"I think you're right, Lois. There they are...." He paused for a
few moments, then went on, "Yeah, they look panic-stricken to me.
She's checking the kitchens, the garderobes -- that's the toilets
-- everywhere inside; one guy's headed for the stables, and the
other looks to be doing the rounds of the walls and
fortifications."

Clark continued to scan the castle, but didn't say anything
further. Lois also fell silent and looked thoughtful. A little
later, she was about to say something when Clark spoke again:
"Where the heck is that sorcerer? Oh-oh... I think Maud is going to
tell the Baron that Loisette's gone. Boy, does she look
unhappy...."

"Quick!" said Lois, "Fly me up to Loisette's room. I'll impersonate
her, and that'll keep them all off-guard while you take care of the
sorcerer."

Clark cast a startled glance at Lois, and then at Wells, who
nodded. "An excellent idea, my dear," said the time traveller. "But
you must hurry; Mrs Kent will need time to change, and Tempos will
no doubt go charging up to her room once he learns that Lady
Loisette is missing."

Clark had his doubts about this whole idea, but he seemed to be
outvoted and didn't have a better plan -- and, as Wells said, there
wasn't time to come up with anything else. So he scooped Lois up
and they hurtled into the air, flashing into the now-deserted tower
room a fraction of a second later.

Clark set Lois down and went to watch at the door, which had been
locked again, while she began to rummage through the chests,
looking for something in the way of a gown that she could quickly
slip over her 20th-century clothes. She didn't want to have to run
around in medieval garb if there was going to be any sort of
action, and she just couldn't shake a feeling that there *would* be
before this whole business was over.

Just as she found a gown with the right sort of sleeves and
neckline to hide her blouse (it was, uncannily enough, an
attractive shade of burgundy), an angry roar could be heard from
the main hall. "She told him...." muttered Clark.

"Never mind that," said Lois. "Quick, help me get this thing on
before he gets here."

No sooner said than done. There was a rush of wind, and Lois found
herself wearing the burgundy gown. 'Someday I'm going to have to
ask him how he does that without me noticing,' she thought to
herself.

Clark stepped back to look at her. "Yeah, nice," he said. He looked
through the walls again to see, as expected, the Baron, in a
towering rage, charging across the courtyard towards the tower,
dragging the wretched Maud with him. "He's on his way. I gotta
go... Be careful, huh? Remember, if you need me--"

"'Just scream' -- I know, I know. I *will.* Now kiss me and get
going."

The couple kissed, quickly but passionately, and Clark, after
taking one last x-ray look around, disappeared out the window,
leaving his wife with a gentle smile on her face.

It didn't last long, because heavy footsteps, an angry roaring and
near-hysterical weeping coming from the stairs announced the
arrival of Baron Tempos and the unhappy Maud. Further footsteps and
a metallic clinking indicated that they weren't alone, but merely
the head of a mini-procession that included several guards.

The door crashed open to reveal a furious Tempos. Lois swallowed
and turned what she hoped was an impassive face to the newcomers.
She had to fight to retain that impassivity when the Baron saw her;
already angry to the point of apoplexy, he went positively
ballistic at the calm presence, right where she was supposed to be,
of the woman whom he'd been told had absconded, and Lois wasn't
sure whether she wanted to cringe or laugh at him. A second's
thought brought her down firmly on the side of laughter -- no way
was she going to let him scare her!

She didn't laugh, though, and any desire that she may have had to
do so vanished almost immediately as Tempos lashed out viciously at
Maud, knocking the poor woman to the floor, where she lay unmoving.
Lois couldn't tell whether this was because she was unconscious,
dead or just playing possum in order to escape a further beating.

Lois was infuriated by this senseless brutality, and her gut
reaction was to clobber Tempos with a few martial arts moves, to
teach him some respect for women -- Clark had told her that Maud
was one of Tempos' minions, but that didn't mean that he should be
allowed to assault the woman with impunity -- but she looked down
at herself and realised that not only was she not dressed for it,
but any attempt to attack the Baron would simply lead to her being
dragged off him by his guards. So she fought down her violent
inclinations, letting her anger express itself as outraged
haughtiness as she played her role, protesting, "My lord! What is
the meaning of this? Why do you strike poor Maud so?"

Almost against her will, her tone became sarcastic. "She's not much
use as a maid, but that's not why you employ her, is it? So why hit
her?"

Lois began to worry as Tempos stood there, breathing heavily but
saying nothing. She was afraid that what she had said smacked
rather too much of a combination of Lady Bracknell and her
20th-century self, and that Tempos would detect her imposture.

Her worries seemed to be unfounded. "This... this *kitchen drudge*
had the effrontery to come crawling into my hall, claiming that you
had vanished," the Baron snarled. He kicked out at Maud, but the
hapless woman had recovered enough to move herself out of range.
She cowered by the wall in fright and misery until Tempos called to
one of his men to "Get rid of her!" -- whereupon, the erstwhile
maid was dragged away, presumably to take up her new position in
the castle hierarchy.

Silence reigned in the room until Tempos, who had been staring at
Lois, barked, "As for you, my lady, you can forget about riding
today. You'll stay here until I summon you. And while you're
waiting, you can do your hair properly! I don't know what you've
been doing while that fool of a woman was indulging her madness,
but you look like it got caught in a hedge!" With that, he turned
and went to leave, his guards scurrying to get out of his way.

Lois, still concerned that she might have given herself away, was
relieved that she wasn't expected to go riding. She wasn't much of
a horsewoman, but Lady Loisette probably was. It suited her just
fine to stay here in the castle; Tempos might think that he had her
under lock and key, but little did he know that Lady Loisette was
long gone, and Lois would be here just as long as she and Clark
wanted her to be, and no more.

She kept quiet while Tempos raged, but his crack about her hair
angered her. She was going to complain, then thought better of it,
then decided that a show of spirit would be in character after all,
so she called out to the departing Baron, "And, how, pray, am I to
arrange my hair to my lord's satisfaction without Maud? She may
have been your spy, but at least she could help me dress!"

Tempos turned back at that and laughed, enjoying her ire. "All
right, all right," he growled in reply, "I'll send you someone." He
sounded annoyed -- but then, he usually did -- which was fine with
Lois, not only on general principles, but also because if he was
mad, he was less likely to notice any slips that she made, and she
was still worried that she was coming across as herself rather than
as Loisette.

She was right to be concerned. As he stomped away, the Baron was
thinking hard, but was more intrigued than angry. He headed towards
the hall, but halted abruptly halfway there. His sudden stop caused
consternation among the following guards, who, for a few moments,
resembled nothing so much as the Keystone Kops in their desperate
attempts to avoid colliding with their lord; Tempos was not known
for a restrained response to what he might consider an affront to
his lordly dignity by his vassals -- or anyone else.

The guards managed to pull themselves into some sort of order, just
in time; Tempos was also not fond of men who failed to maintain
what he called proper discipline. But when the Baron turned round,
the only evidence of the guards' mad scramble was a slight bend in
their line as they stood to attention. This might have been enough
for their lord to deliver a reprimand, but he was pre-occupied and
didn't notice; as it happened, one of the guards might have
preferred the reprimand, because he turned white when Tempos
pointed at him and barked, "You! Go tell my sorcerer that I want
him! I'll be in the main hall."

The unfortunate man-at-arms could do nothing except salute and step
back to allow his fellows to go past as the Baron strode off. Very
reluctantly, he walked towards a mostly-deserted corner of the
castle; the only person around was a sentry on the battlements, and
he spent most of his time as far as possible from the section of
the wall towards which the guard was headed.

He knocked at a wooden door set into the wall, but tentatively, as
though he'd just as soon whoever was on the other side didn't
notice -- which wasn't far from the truth. There was no response,
and the guard was about to leave in a grateful hurry when a voice
came from the other side of the door: "Who is it? Go away -- I'm
busy!"

"S-s-sir Sorcerer," the guard stammered nervously, "B-Baron Tempos
wants to see you, i-in the main hall...."

There was a noise from behind the door that might have been a
snort. "What does he want? Tell him I'll see him later -- I've got
important things to do right now... haven't I, Morganna?"

"S-sir," insisted the guard, his voice rapidly becoming a
panic-stricken falsetto, "My lord Tempos *commands* your presence,
in the great hall, a-at once!"

That seemed to give the sorcerer pause. After a moment of silence,
the voice replied, "All right, all right. I'll be there shortly. I
have to tidy up here before I can come. Now go away!"

The guard didn't need to be told again. He fled.

                    *         *         *

Inside the main hall, the Baron was fuming, and his anger only got
worse as the minutes ticked by with no sign of the sorcerer. He was
just about to bellow for the man-at-arms who'd been told to get the
sorcerer when a flash and a bang in the middle of the room
announced the arrival of the magician at the centre of a cloud of
boiling mist.

Despite having seen it several times, Tempos was impressed with the
manner in which the sorcerer had taken to appearing, these days. He
wasn't going to admit that, though, so he hid any feelings other
than his displeasure at being kept waiting -- again -- and growled,
"Where have you been? When I call you, I expect you to come --
immediately! What took you so long *this* time?"

"I was in the middle of something when that nithing came to tell me
that you wanted to see me. I've told you before, I can't just stop
everything and run to answer your every beck and call. All magicks
are dangerous, and some are *very* dangerous; they can't just be
left to themselves like a cook with a cauldron of soup. In this
case, if I'd run straightaway to answer your summons and not done
what was necessary, the potion I was brewing could have escaped and
eaten this entire castle and everyone in it!"

That possibility seemed to take even Tempos aback, but he retained
enough presence of mind to ask, "What the devil are you going to do
with a potion that can do *that?* I don't like the idea of being
eaten by one of your concoctions!"

"I'm not going to do anything with it," the sorcerer replied
calmly. "That potion is just an intermediate stage in the creation
of a more useful one, one which is much more controllable. No-one
in their right mind would use the corrosive stage for anything
other than creating the real potion -- so don't ask me to make it
for you, not even if the castle's under siege! It would eat any
attackers, yes, but also the castle, the surrounding fields for
several miles in all directions, and every living thing it
touched!"

Tempos didn't miss the insult, nor the warning. Not for the first
time, he wondered if the danger inherent in letting the sorcerer do
whatever he wanted in that pit of his might not outweigh the
advantages of his services, however effective they undoubtedly
were. But, as he had done every other time he had considered the
matter, he put the thought out of his mind -- or was it that
something *else* did that for him? -- and concentrated on the
business of the moment.

"Never mind that," he snapped. "There's something odd going on.
Lady Loisette was supposed to be going riding this afternoon --
heavily guarded, of course -- but instead, her maid comes
grovelling to me, saying that she's escaped from her room. But when
I go up there, there she is -- but *not* dressed for riding, and...
and there's something different about her!"

"Oh, and what's that?" said the sorcerer, who was both rather bored
by this petty complaint and amused that it should come from the
Baron, who was not usually given to flights of fancy. With any
other man, he would have put it down to pre-wedding nerves, but
Tempos was hardly a blushing bridegroom....

"I'm not sure," replied a thoughtful Baron. "Her manner is...
different, somehow. More assertive, quicker to anger, less gentle
in her speech, and she definitely hates me -- even moreso than
usual. It's rather refreshing, actually."

"That's hardly surprising, my lord," murmured the sorcerer. "You
must remember that she only agreed to marry you in order to save
the life of Sir Charles. You can hardly expect devotion in those
circumstances, but you *can* rely on her word; she will go through
with what she promised."

Tempos snorted. "She doesn't have a choice about *that!*" He was
silent for a little while before continuing, "You know, you've
reminded me of something. This isn't the first time my lady has
shown more spirit than usual; she was like this, only not as much,
two weeks ago, when I agreed to banish The Fox rather than kill
him, in return for her sworn fidelity. Now, what does that mean..?"

The Baron had finally got the sorcerer's interest. The little man
became thoughtful as well. "Ah-hh-hh," he exclaimed eventually. "My
lord, I do not know what it means, but what you have just said may
be of great importance."

"Well, of course it's important! *I* said it!"

"Yes, my lord," sighed the sorcerer in not-very-well-hidden
exasperation, "But what I meant is that you have noticed something
'odd', as you put it, about the Lady Loisette, something similar to
another oddity of a fortnight ago. At the same time, *I* have been
feeling the presence of strange magicks as I practice my arts.
These, too, resemble those which I sensed a fortnight ago, and, as
you have said about the lady, there are more and more powerful
forces involved than those I mentioned to you then. I have managed
to hide from their eyes so far, but perhaps the time has come to
act openly against them.

"My lord, with your permission, I would like to see Lady Loisette.
I may be able to detect if she has indeed changed as you suspect,
and whether any changes are connected with the magicks that probe
my secrets. If you would summon her...."

Tempos said nothing, merely signalling to a near-by guard, who
hurried off.

                    *         *         *

Lois had been pacing back and forth in the tower room, not enjoying
the feeling of helplessness at being locked in a *tower*, of all
things, while the bad guys -- *and* the good guys, for that matter
-- did who knew what? She had looked out of the window, hoping to
see Clark or Wells, but to no avail. She'd looked at the door lock
and, while she thought she could pick it, she didn't have anything
to pick it *with* -- oh, what she would have done for her purse
with its bunch of lockpicks! In the end, she had begun walking
about the room out of sheer frustration and restlessness.

The sound of footsteps coming up the tower stairs galvanised her
into action, and she flattened herself against the wall next to the
door. With any luck, this would be the replacement maid coming to
help her do her hair -- in which case, one quick punch, and she'd
be out of here in next to no time.

No such luck. A stentorian male voice called out, "My lady, the
lord Tempos commands your presence in the main hall." Lois wouldn't
have minded trying her luck with a man-at-arms -- she figured that
she ought to be able to take one out, or at least evade him for
long enough to escape from the room, and maybe even lock him in
behind her -- but the noise from the stairwell indicated that her
summoner wasn't alone. 'Gee, these guys are real brave,' she
thought. 'I wonder how many of them he's brought along to escort
one lone female....'

Her escort turned out to be four fully-armed guards. For a moment,
Lois entertained the mad fantasy of grabbing a sword from one of
them and cutting loose with it in the confines of the stairs, but
she dismissed that tempting idea with the thought that she didn't
really know how to use a broadsword, and the long gown would only
get in her way. 'They'll keep....' she thought.

Lois assumed her most imperious manner, once again borrowing
heavily from Dame Edith Evans as Lady Bracknell, and strode out --
as well as she could in that gown. She had to moderate her pace on
the stairs, which weren't designed for her boots, and which gave
the surprised guards a chance to catch up with her. This turned out
to be a blessing in disguise, because she was able to follow the
two who went in front of her; getting lost in the castle, she
realised, could have been a sure sign that she wasn't who they
thought she was.

After leading her through the castle along a short but convoluted
route that Lois did her best to memorise, the guards stopped at a
pair of doors and knocked. Lois heard Tempos bellow, "YES?!", to
which the guards responded by opening the doors and bowing to her
as their leader called out, "Lady Loisette, my lord."

"Ah, at last..." said Tempos, his voice suddenly silky. "Come in,
my lady, come in."

Lois had no real choice in the matter, so she walked into the hall
wearing her best poker face. Inside, however, she was troubled by
the Baron's sudden change in manner. From what she'd seen of him in
their encounters in the 20th century, Tempus was always at his most
villainous when he assumed that smooth demeanour. The Baron mostly
acted like the classic medieval tyrant -- lots of bluster, anger
and contempt for everyone, especially those he deemed to be below
him (which, at the moment, was everyone in the castle except her,
and she was sure that she didn't count because she was female) --
but the plotting, the patience and ability to plan that made his
later incarnation so dangerous was there, too. It was that side
that was showing now, and *that* worried her....

Her fears were justified, although not in a manner that she could
ever have imagined. No sooner had she entered the hall than the
sorcerer chanted something and she found herself transfixed by his
eyes, unable to look away from him. "And now, my lady," he
muttered, "Let us examine your soul...."

For Lois, what happened next was like something from a bizarre
dream. She could feel nothing other than an instinctive revulsion
towards the sight of the sorcerer and his unblinking, staring eyes,
and yet somehow she could also feel him inspecting her from inside.
The thought made her shudder -- except that she couldn't move --
and she tried to focus all her feelings into a blaze of hatred and
disgust to direct at the revolting figure of the magician.

"Well?" said Tempos with his customary irascibility after a few
seconds -- or was it a few years? "Is she or isn't she?"

"I... cannot tell," gasped the sorcerer. "There are too many others
in this hall. Their presence interferes -- get rid of them, sire!"

Tempos didn't hesitate. He swept one arm around the room, beckoning
to guards, servants, everyone. "Get out!" he bellowed. "All of you!
Leave this hall!"

One or two of the guards hesitated, feeling that it wasn't right
for them to abandon their posts, leaving their lord alone with the
sorcerer ("Lady Loisette", of course, didn't count), but one glance
at Tempos' face convinced them that instant obedience was their
first and foremost duty right now, and they left behind the others.

With the hall empty, the examination began again. Lois wanted to
fight back, so she concentrated on her feelings of anger and
outrage at the violation of her innermost self. She couldn't really
tell if her efforts were having any effect on the sorcerer, but he
didn't seem to be enjoying what he was doing, so she kept it up on
principle. Trying to focus her feelings also helped her to not
think about two things -- Clark, and the flaw in the sorcerer's
reasoning that she hoped would enable her to pass this test.

Eventually, the sorcerer's eyes unglazed and he shook his head to
clear it. "Ah..." he half-moaned, obviously in some distress from
his probing of Lois' soul -- and, who knows, maybe he *had* caught
a taste of her fury. But then, before Tempos could explode with
impatience, he managed to say, somewhat weakly, "Yes, my lord...
yes, that is Lady Loisette....."

"Are you sure?!" barked Tempos.

The sorcerer, offended, drew himself up and faced the Baron to say,
"Yes, my lord, I am *sure.* I have looked at the lady's soul, both
now and beforetimes, and I can assure you that that *is* Lady
Loisette. There can be no doubt."

Tempos snorted in annoyance while Lois, released from whatever
force had held her motionless, staggered backwards for a few steps
and fought a major internal battle not to let the relief that she
was feeling show outwardly. She had seized on the loophole that she
had seen in the sorcerer's plan and used it to steady herself while
the man had carried out his horrible intrusion. And it had worked,
because she did have Lady Loisette's soul -- just not her mind or
body.

It took her a few moments to regain her poise, both external and
internal, by which time the Baron had begun to speak again. She
tuned in to his words as best she could.

"...if it's not her, then it must be *him!* Maybe he's not as big
a fool as he'd like everyone to believe; maybe he's out there now,
planning to attack...."

The sorcerer had also recovered from whatever his probe of Lois had
momentarily inflicted him with, because he sounded sardonically
amused as he interrupted Tempos' ranting. "No, sire, I do not think
so. Sir Charles accepted exile, and he is a man of honour. It is
not in his character to go back on his word.

"And besides, even if he did return from France -- remember, I
scried him sailing for Calais ten days ago -- and gathered his
entire band together, what could they do? Is this not a royal
castle, built to withstand warfare and siege? The Fox's Men are
scattered, in hiding or returned to the hovels from which they were
used to steal away secretly to conduct their thefts; they have no
siege engines, nor were their numbers ever sufficient to assault us
openly."

"True, true..." mused Tempos, calming and becoming thoughtful. "But
I still don't like him being out there, free to do his good deeds.
Heroes have the annoying habit of coming back, you know." He paused
for a while, then appeared to make some sort of decision. "I'm not
going to take the risk! I want you to prepare your vilest curse, to
kill him and doom his soul to suffer for all time."

The sorcerer nodded, smiling unpleasantly.

Lois was horrified. If the sorcerer did that, not only would Sir
Charles die, but *Clark* would also be cursed! "No!" she cried
before she could stop herself. Tempos and the sorcerer started at
the sound of her voice -- apparently, they had forgotten that she
was there. Lois wished that she hadn't drawn attention to herself
but, since she had, she had to stay in character and decided to try
to talk the Baron out of this, as she was sure the real Loisette
would do. It might even work if she reminded him of their
agreement. She tried to remember which of the Muses was responsible
for eloquence, because she could do with some help....

"My lord, you mustn't!" she implored. "We had a bargain -- you
spared Charles' life in return for his exile and my hand and
fidelity. Your sorcerer admits that he has kept his part; I will
keep mine as I have promised; will you now go back on your word?
You cannot!"

"Oh, yes, I can," replied Tempos. "I'm the villain, remember? We're
always doing this sort of thing -- it comes with the job!" He
turned to the sorcerer. "Go and get on with it! I want Sir Charles
dead and in eternal torment by... by *yesterday!*"

Lois, almost instinctively, moved to intercept the sorcerer as he
started to leave. If she could get close enough to him, maybe
Doctor Fate would intervene; if not, then perhaps she could do
something -- *anything* -- to stop the suddenly monstrous little
man from carrying out Tempos' orders and dooming Clark and herself
to untold misery in all their incarnations.

Unfortunately, the sorcerer seemed to sense what she was trying to
do, and retreated behind the long table in the centre of the hall.
Lois came to a halt, not wanting to be drawn into chasing him; that
would be completely out of character for Lady Loisette, and for
some reason that she couldn't quite identify, she thought that
maintaining her masquerade could still prove to be important.
Besides, she doubted that she could catch the sorcerer if he
managed to get by her and out of the hall -- long gowns were not
made for running.

The Baron had been watching her and was definitely amused. "Why, my
dear," he almost purred, "I do believe you're planning to do
something awful to my sorcerer. To protect your precious Sir
Charles, no doubt. I didn't think you had it in you. What a shame
I can't let you actually do it..." At that, the sorcerer turned and
glared at him, but he either didn't notice or ignored it
completely. "But," he continued, "good sorcerers are hard to find,
and good *evil* sorcerers even harder. So I'm afraid that you're
going to have to give up your little plans, because I want my
sorcerer alive and healthy, so that he can curse Sir Charles with
the full extent of his powers!

"So, *my lady*...." His voice grew louder, almost to a shout, and
it was filled with menace. "You will leave, *now*, and return to
your room to resign yourself to your fate -- and to the fate that
awaits The Fox!"

'Fate? I'll give *you* Fate, if I can just get close enough to that
sorcerer,' thought Lois. But she couldn't. She only needed to get
another six or so feet closer to the magician to be within the
3-metre radius, but the table and the Baron and the man's own
wariness blocked her. She looked over at Tempos, whose manner was
rapidly changing to rage, and decided that retreat was in order.
Clark wasn't cursed yet, and maybe she could bushwhack the sorcerer
somewhere else. She turned and left the hall without another word.

Behind her, the Baron was glaring at the sorcerer. "Are you still
sure that that's Lady Loisette?" asked Tempos sardonically.

"Ye-es, sire," replied the sorcerer thoughtfully. "But I have to
agree that her behaviour was unusual. She seemed to want to
approach me...."

"Whereas, normally, she'd sooner get close to a kitchen midden than
to you!"

"Very true, my lord. This *is* strange -- and yet, I am certain of
my findings. Souls are unique, no two alike, and hers is definitely
that of Lady Loisette. Nor could I find any trace of magic within
her, so she cannot be in the power of another sorcerer...."

"Are you sure that you'd know if she was?"

"Oh, yes, my lord...." The sorcerer smiled evilly, so evilly that
even Tempos recoiled from the malice that it showed. The sorcerer
saw this, and the smile widened. "You must be aware that since we
banished Sir Charles, my power has grown enormously. Together, by
that simple act, we have tilted a cosmic balance towards the side
of evil. Certain puissant beings have sought to reward us for our
help: my reward is this increased skill and knowledge of my arts,
equal to that of any sorcerer in the world; *your* reward is my use
of my new powers in your service.

"Oh, yes, my lord, I would know... as I know that other powers seek
me, even now. They cannot see me, nor anyone in this hall, unless
I wish it. And perhaps it is time that they did partly succeed in
their quest...."

"What do you mean?"

"We are under siege, sire. Oh, not an ordinary siege, with men and
engines -- *that* I could deal with now, with a mere wave of a hand
-- but a subtle, distant probing, of a kind never before seen. I
have been able to hide from it or deflect it, but I think that the
time has come to invite our enemies in -- into a trap, naturally."

"I see..." said Tempos. "Just what do you have in mind?"

"Oh, it's quite simple, sire, as are all good traps. First, I'm
going to let our watchers see me -- and you. And then...."

                    *         *         *

Lois had spent a lot of time wondering where Clark was,
particularly while in the hall with the sorcerer. Clark had spent
even more time wondering where the sorcerer was; despite repeated
x-ray vision sweeps and even a couple of super-speed fly-pasts, he
had had no luck at all locating the man.

And then things got worse; he had seen Tempos' conversation with
Lois in the tower, and had followed the Baron as he returned to the
hall, but now he couldn't find *him* either. Not only that, but
Lois had been summoned to the hall, and *she* had disappeared for
a while. He heaved a huge sigh of relief when he saw her leave the
hall and walk towards a nearby flight of stairs.

"There's something very strange about that hall," he said to Wells.
"People go into it and... vanish. I can see into the hall fine, but
there's no-one there. I saw the Baron go in, and I could see him
and a whole lot of guards and servants, but then they all
disappeared. I saw Lois go in and come out, and all those people
came out of it while she was in there, but I couldn't see her when
she went in, and the people leaving weren't visible until they came
out of the door...."

"Hmmm..." replied Wells, who was sitting at the foot of one of the
trees. "That does sound rather as if there's something blocking
your super-vision. Since you cannot find the sorcerer, I suspect
that he is probably to blame."

"I think you're right..." muttered Clark. "But what do we do about
it? Should I simply grab the Baron when he shows up again, or do we
keep trying to find the sorcerer, and then take care of Tempos?"

"I don't know...." Wells' worried voice trailed off as Clark
visibly stiffened.

"*There* they are!" cried Clark. "They just appeared, both of them,
in the main hall. Hang on, Mr Wells, I'm gonna get us in there.
With luck, they won't even see us coming." He grabbed Wells and
took off at super-speed.

Clark swooped into the hall through a window, intending to flash
across the room, knock out the sorcerer, deposit Wells next to him,
and then grab Tempos. To his horror, he was barely inside the hall
when it felt for all the world as though he had flown into treacle;
the air clutched at him, and his super-speed flight was slowed to
the merest crawl. Fortunately, both he and Wells had slowed
together, so the time traveller wasn't hurt by the sudden
deceleration. But that was all of their good fortune; some unseen
force pulled them to the ground, where they rolled apart.

Across the room, Tempos was dumbfounded and the sorcerer was
ecstatic. "You see, my lord -- we *have* them!" And he began to
laugh, a deafening howl of the vilest, most malicious merriment.

With the unearthly glee of the sorcerer as background, Clark and
Wells found themselves fighting for their lives.

                    *         *         *

Meanwhile, Lois hadn't gone far. Tempos might think he could order
her around and expect unquestioning obedience but, once out of his
sight, any pretence that she was going to do what he commanded
vanished instantly. Besides, if he was stupid enough to let her run
around unguarded... well, she'd just see what she could do to wreck
his little schemes.

Where was Clark? There was the sorcerer in the hall, finally out of
whatever hole he had been hiding in, and just waiting for Wells to
get close enough. How come Clark wasn't there already? If only
there was some way she could contact him....

She went to go out into the courtyard, in the hope that Clark would
see her and she could tell him about Tempos and the sorcerer and
their plans, but before she got outside, an uproar from the main
hall and an unholy cry from the sorcerer stopped her in her tracks.
She raced back to the hall doorway -- well, as fast as she could in
the burgundy gown -- and looked in.

The sight that met her eyes was horrific, even nightmarish. Clark
and Wells were entangled in thrashing tentacles that somehow were
growing out of the stone floor of the hall. As she watched, Clark
blasted the base of the ones holding Wells with his heat vision,
even as he ripped the tentacles gripping him out of the ground.
But, like the heads of the mythical hydra, for every one that he
burned or tore out, another, or even two others, would sprout from
the same spot and wrap themselves around their victim. Clark didn't
seem to be in any difficulty other than being two-thirds-covered by
the horrible things, but Wells was groaning and gasping, obviously
short of breath and in some pain from the grip of the soft, ghastly
limbs.

Again, Clark's heat vision shot out, cutting and scorching the
tentacles surrounding Wells. Just for an instant, Lois thought she
could see the red flash that was the only visible sign that Clark's
eyes were pouring out energy. The tentacles on the receiving end
withered, died and vanished into nothingness instantly, but any
respite that Wells might have gained was short-lived as new growths
slithered up his gasping figure.

Lois looked around desperately. There had to be *something* she
could do to help, but what? And then her gaze fixed on the
sorcerer. The repulsive creature was obviously behind this; if she
could distract him or, even better, disable him, Clark would be
able to save Wells and get him close enough to the sorcerer for
Doctor Fate to intervene -- *if* the woman lived up to her
promises. In any case, taking out the sorcerer had now become
vital, mysterious doctors or not, and Lois realised that *she* had
the best chance to do it because no-one would expect the
nobly-born, gentle Lady Loisette to attack them. Lois Lane Kent, on
the other hand, was more than ready and able to do just that. With
a wicked anticipatory glee that she did nothing to suppress because
it was all too appropriate, she prepared to strike back at the
sorcerer for his invasion of her soul. 'Play your rotten games with
*me*, will you? Now it's my turn....'

Quickly, she stepped back into the passage and slipped the gown
over her head; 20th-century clothes were much better for a fight
than medieval finery. She approached the doorway again and zeroed
in on the cackling figure of the sorcerer, who was now standing out
in the open with his back to her. 'Okay, you scumbag,' she thought,
'It's martial arts against sorcery. Here we go....'

Lois began to run into the hall, towards the sorcerer, quickly
accelerating to a full-blooded charge. Her footsteps rang out on
the flagstones and the sorcerer began to turn in her direction, as
did Tempos, but it was too late for either of them to stop her.
With her best Tae Kwon Do yell, she leaped and drove a booted foot
hard into the sorcerer's stomach....

Everything *froze.* For a timeless instant, Lois felt herself
suspended in mid-air while somehow, someone else looked with her,
through her eyes, at the motionless, unchanging scene. Then time
began again and she crashed to the ground on top of the sorcerer.

She went to roll away, partly to get off the loathsome little man,
but also to resume her assault. Before she could, however, there
was a golden flash, so quick that it was gone almost before her
senses registered that it had happened, and a *whoosh*, and she
found herself on the other side of the hall in Clark's arms. His
expression as he looked back at their foes was an odd, almost
contradictory mixture: he was alert and ready for action, but his
face showed an awed amazement, and then he glanced down at her with
eyes full of unconcealed and grateful pride and love.

She was incredibly glad to see him, and the look he gave her made
her heart turn over with joy, but she forced herself to concentrate
on what was going on behind her back, turning within his firm,
loving hug to see what he was looking at. She saw, and her own eyes
widened. The tentacles were gone, and the sorcerer, already doubled
over in pain from her attack, was bent even further under the glare
of a beam of yellow light that shone on him like an amber laser,
blazing down from an invisible source high in the rafters of the
hall. He was screaming silently and his eyes, full of hatred, were
fixed on the source of the light, as though he could see something
there where no-one else could.

And perhaps he could, for the same golden glow that had illuminated
Wells' room appeared and expanded into the form of Doctor Fate. The
blue-and-gold figure was male this time, but Wells, panting quietly
as he recovered from the grip of the tentacles, recognised the
costume -- *and* the voice.

"PAWN OF CHAOS! DUPE OF THE DWELLERS OF THE ABYSS!" Fate thundered.
"BY THE POWER OF LIGHT AND ORDER, I CAST OUT YOUR MASTERS!"

Again, golden light flared from Fate's hands, surrounding the
stunned figure of the sorcerer. The man wailed as the light wrapped
itself around him. The glow grew brighter, until only Clark could

bear to look at it. To his eyes, though, a macabre scene was
visible: ghostly figures were being... well, *pulled* was the only
word for it, from the sorcerer's body. They rose to coalesce above
his head, where they began to change; what had begun as a series of
vaguely human-like phantoms disappeared into smooth darkness to
re-emerge as a multitude of different shapes and forms which seemed
unable to hold their outline or texture for more than an instant.
They writhed and squirmed all over, thrashing about such limbs as
they had momentarily, but they were no more able to escape from the
golden light than they were to retain their shape.

The light began to fade, and with it the darkness that it enclosed
and the figures which that, in turn, contained. Before long, all
had vanished, leaving only the drab, wizened little man who had
been such a menace, threatening the lives and happiness of so many
people, only a few moments before.

"You Will Cast No More Spells, Sorcerer," intoned Fate. "Those Who
Empowered You Have Been Banished Once Again." The helmed figure
turned to face the three time travellers. "The Curse -- *All*
Curses -- Are Gone. The Mystic Danger To Your World, Herbert George
Wells, Is Over. I Leave The Historical Danger And The Disposal Of
The Baron To You. Farewell."

"Wait!" Lois yelled. Now that this mystery-man had turned out to be
one of the good guys, she had a few questions to ask him. "Before
you disappear, I think you owe us an explanation. We did your dirty
work for you, so the least you can do is fill us in on a few
details -- like what exactly it was that we *did*, and why... and
who you are!"

The golden helm, expressionless except for the eyes behind the
slits, turned to face her. For a moment, Lois felt herself to be
the subject of a scrutiny that went almost as deep as the
sorcerer's probing of her soul. Somewhat to her surprise, though,
she didn't feel the same sense of intrusion as she had with the
sorcerer, and any apprehension that she might have begun to feel
vanished when the costumed figure did something that was both
strange and somehow familiar: he cocked his head-- er, helmet, to
one side, and began to laugh.

The laughter was deep and rich, and full of joy and merriment. It
was infectious, and the three time travellers found themselves
smiling, caught up in the amusement without quite knowing what was
so funny.

Tempos, by contrast, looked rather sick. To his horror and mounting
anger, he had been helpless to intervene while his sorcerer had
been rendered powerless, but now he could take action, and the
first thing he had in mind was to run his sword through that
prating fool in the golden helm; then he'd call in his guards to
take care of Lady Loisette and her forsworn lover. Oh, yes, *and*
that oddly-dressed little man from Kent who dared to poke his nose
into his affairs!

He reached for his sword, but his hand got no further than just
touching the hilt. Doctor Fate raised one hand and performed a
complex gesture; there was a blaze of yellow light, and the Baron
froze in place, as did everyone and everything in the castle other
than the four people not from that time.

"Very Well," said Fate. "You Have Earned That Much, And More, This
Day. When Your Task Is Completed, I Will Come And We Will Talk."

The now-familiar flash came yet again, and the caped figure was
gone. The world began to move again.

"I've been *waiting* for this!" Clark growled, filled with a new
determination to finish this business. He began to spin, and the
jeans and shirt vanished in place of Superman's colourful uniform.
"Okay, Baron, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. What's
it gonna be?"

On reflection, Clark was later to realise that there wasn't any
real doubt in the matter. The Baron, once he'd recovered from his
amazement at the disappearance of Fate and Clark's transformation,
drew his sword, a feral grin on his face. "And I thought *his*
clothes were awful," he quipped, motioning with the sword towards
Wells. "What are you trying to be, Charles, the local Court Jester?
Oh well, it doesn't matter, because in two seconds you're going to
be carrion for the *dogs!*"

As he said the last word, Tempos charged, bringing his sword around
in a wide sweep. The blade struck Superman -- and shattered. The
Baron, still having the momentum that he'd put into the swing, kept
moving but was thrown completely off-balance by the impact and
crashed to the ground. Cursing, he rolled away from his foe -- who
hadn't moved yet -- and grabbed for a halberd from the wall.

Off to the side, Lois was grinning, and even Wells was having to
hide a smile. Tempos noticed this and snarled, "You may laugh
*now*, my lady, but I'll deal with you after I've run this traitor
through!" To his intense annoyance, this only made Lois dissolve
into giggles.

The Baron levelled his weapon, its point directed right at
Superman's chest emblem. The "target" didn't move. Tempos charged
again, viciously thrusting as he closed with his enemy.

When the weapon made contact with Superman, it felt to the Baron as
though he'd tried to stab a brick wall -- and Superman's body had
roughly the same effect on the halberd; the blade bent, and the
shaft snapped.

Tempos staggered backwards. *What* was he fighting? *Damn* that
sorcerer for a worthless knave! Just when he was needed, the
useless churl had to go and have his powers taken from him!

Superman decided to get this over with. His eyes narrowed; no-one
could see it, but a low-intensity beam of heat vision came from
them to bathe the Baron. "Tell me, Baron," he said, "After all that
exercise, aren't you feeling just a little... warm?"

The Baron was. To his horror, he could feel his chain-mail heating
up. He began to struggle with it, trying to get it off without
burning his hands.

Superman strode over to him. "Here -- let *me!*" With that, the Man
of Steel grasped the mail shirt and ripped it open. A startled
Tempos saw a red-and-blue blur before his eyes, and suddenly
realised that his armour was *gone!* He was clothed only in the
shirt and hose that he wore underneath it as padding.

Superman grabbed Tempos by the shirt and lifted him off the ground
with one hand. The Baron, afraid but determined not to show it,
looked down and snarled defiantly, "So what happens now? You kill
me?"

"No, Baron, I'm not going to kill you. I don't kill."

"Duh -- of course!" quipped Tempos. "The good guys don't kill,
except in a fair fight. Fools! Now, me, I'll kill anyone. Killing
*finishes* things -- and it's fun, too."

"Yeah, well, don't get too confident, Tempos. *I* may not kill you,
but you have an appointment with someone who just might...." So
saying, Superman rose from the ground, still holding the Baron with
one hand and, with a *whoosh*, they were gone.

A very short time later, the familiar gust of wind heralded
Superman's return. He picked up Lois and Wells as before, saying,
"Next stop, France. We've just about done our job, but I'd like to
make sure that Baron Tempos is properly... disposed of, as our
mystical friend said."

Seconds later, they were landing in the clearing. Sir Charles was
there, as were Lady Loisette, Friar Harry, the Fox's Men -- and,
chained to a tree, Tempos.

Superman walked over to the tree and snapped the chains, freeing
the Baron. Tempos would have fled, but was restrained by a
super-strong grip on one arm. He was dragged into the centre of the
clearing, where Sir Charles awaited him.

Lois came up to the group of men and began, "Okay, here's the deal.
Lady Loisette has promised to marry *you*--" She pointed to Tempos.
"--but really wants to marry *you.*" Her finger moved to Sir
Charles. "For reasons that we won't go into, we want what she
wants. But, if she went ahead and just did what she wanted, she'd
have broken her word, and that would be as bad as if she married
the wrong man. So, Baron, we're going to have to give you a
fighting chance -- you don't deserve it, but that's how it's gotta
be."

Tempos, angry at the off-hand manner in which Lois used his title,
went to strike her, but his arm was blocked, almost before he could
begin his blow, by the rock-hard muscles of Superman. The Baron
found himself once again hauled off the ground bodily by the
blue-clad hell-fiend, who turned him upside-down and held him,
one-handed, in mid-air while growling at him, "Let's get one thing
straight, Tempos: you can't hurt me, and if you even *try* to hurt
my wife, your 'fighting chance' will be the chance that a man has
when he's got four broken limbs and a fractured jaw! And don't
think I'm bluffing; *I* may not kill, but the danger that you
represent is more than enough justification for me to make it easy
for someone *else* to kill you. And there are at least a dozen
people here who'd do that without a moment's hesitation!"

This was, of course, mostly untrue -- Clark knew that the Baron had
to surrender, or at least release Lady Loisette from her promise to
marry him, for the future to be safe -- but Tempos didn't know
that; he looked into his captor's eyes and believed. The expression
there was one of grim determination, which, because *he* would have
no hesitation in crippling an enemy if, for some reason, he
couldn't kill him, Tempos took to be the gaze of an equally
implacable foe.

Superman lowered the Baron to the ground -- none too gently -- then
crossed his arms and stood impassively in the familiar pose as
Tempos got to his feet. If looks could kill, the Baron's fearful,
hate-filled glare would have... bounced off the Man of Steel's
invulnerable skin, just like every other weapon that he might have
tried, now that his sorcerer was powerless. And he knew it, which
only made his humiliation and fury all the greater.

He looked around for a way of escape, but had to give that up
almost before he'd begun when Superman said, in a voice that
brooked no inattention, "All right, Tempos, stop your scheming and
listen! This is where you get a choice. Either you can release Lady
Loisette from her promise to marry you and Sir Charles from his
exile, *and* go into exile yourself...."

"Never!" snarled Tempos.

"Or you get to fight Sir Charles, here and now. Winner take all."

"Is that supposed to be a *choice?*" laughed the Baron. "Surely you
jest! I beat him once, and I'll do it again!"

One of Sir Charles' men came towards Tempos, carrying a sword. He
stopped in the middle of the clearing, however, when Superman held
up one hand. Clark stepped over to him and took the sword, saying,
"Let *me* -- just in case our friend there tries anything funny
once he has a weapon in his hand...."

Tempos cursed inwardly. He had been planning to grab the man and
use him as a hostage long enough to get his hands on an even better
one -- Lady Loisette. The noble Sir Charles, he was sure, would
hesitate to endanger one of his devoted followers, even if it meant
making things worse from his point of view by letting his mortal
enemy take his lady-love. What a fool!

But that gules-and-azure demon had thwarted that plan before he
could even attempt it. Still, it was worth remembering; if he could
manage to capture the lady, he'd have a perfect way of escaping
from this trap with the ultimate prize. He'd just have to bide his
time and wait for an opportunity. Even the demon couldn't stop him
if he could just get close enough to Loisette.... (In this, Tempos
did Clark a considerable injustice, but he hadn't seen a
demonstration of real super-speed yet, nor would he have believed
in it without one)

Meantime, Superman was now right in front of him, holding the sword
out to him. "Take this, Tempos," said Clark. "And I suggest you
remember what happened to your *last* one before you try to use it
on me. You're going to need it, and no-one will give you another
sword if you ruin this one."

This gave the Baron pause, even as he took the weapon. He'd
half-expected to be run through on the spot; to be given a sword
and warned that he was going to need it was beyond all imagining.
But he shook that off; he was alive, fit, unbound and armed -- he'd
beat them all yet! He turned towards Sir Charles and mockingly
saluted him with his sword. "To the death!" he called, sneering.

Charles was impassive, as though he had been expecting this. He
replied in kind, although his "To the death!" was muted, with a
tinge of sadness that it had come to this.

Tempos was anything *but* sad as he stepped out into the clearing
to watch everyone but Sir Charles retire to the edges. He took
special note of where Lady Loisette was standing, and also of the
witch who looked so like her and had dared to mock him -- once
Charles was dead, he'd just see about teaching her respect for her
betters, hell-born "husband" or not. He began to muse on which of
the women would make the better hostage; Loisette was the real
prize, but the other wench would make a useful bargaining tool to
get to the lady, and was less likely to be closely guarded; should
he take one of them before or *after* he'd killed Charles...?

But Superman had been watching, and he suddenly stepped right up to
Tempos, impaling him with the glare that was known and feared by
the Metropolis underworld. His face scant inches from the
nobleman's, he said, quietly and forcefully, "Just remember one
more thing: this is going to be a *fair* fight, just you and Sir
Charles. No-one else will be allowed to interfere, so you needn't
worry about attacks from Sir Charles' men, or me -- but *you'll*
have to toe the line as well. If you try to run away, you lose; if
you try to grab anyone as a hostage, you lose; if you do *anything*
other than fight Sir Charles, and *only* Sir Charles, you lose; and
losing means that you'll end up right here, bound and unarmed, and
at Sir Charles' mercy."

Tempos quailed inwardly at Clark's words, not so much at what he
had said as from the conviction and power in the hero's voice. But
the arrogant self-confidence that was a basic part of his make-up
-- in any incarnation -- bolstered his ego and allowed him to
reply, "Hah! He'll soon be at *my* mercy, and I don't have any!"

Superman said nothing, merely standing his ground until Tempos
backed away from him. He then moved aside as Sir Charles came
across to face the Baron. The two men raised their swords and the
battle began.

What followed looked, to the eyes of the 20th-century couple, more
like something from an Errol Flynn movie than the fight that
Clark-as-Charles had had with the Baron. The real Sir Charles'
swordplay was much more controlled and skilled -- even flashy when
it had to be, which wasn't often. This was an unpleasant surprise
to Tempos, who had expected to overpower his opponent much as he
had done the "first" time, only to find that his attacks were
parried easily. Not that he had many opportunities to attack; this
time, he found himself almost entirely on the defensive,
desperately trying to block the knight's flashing blade.

Nor were his stratagems any more successful: attempts to lure Sir
Charles onto uneven ground were refused, dirty infighting just
didn't work, and insults and taunting were ignored. The knight
merely stood there, alert and watchful, ready for anything.

In a way, it was Sir Charles' refusal even to exchange banter with
him that led to Tempos' undoing. Fatigued and almost insane with
fury, he launched one final, all-out assault on his foe, attempting
to overwhelm the knight by sheer force. However, Charles had been
expecting this, and made an end of the fight; a simple but
precisely-timed step to the side, a clash of steel and a quick
thrust, and Tempos fell to the ground. His sword went flying, to be
scooped up at super-speed by Clark and returned to its owner.

Charles stood silently for a moment, breathing heavily as he looked
down the length of his sword at his erstwhile lord, at whose throat
the point now rested. "Will you yield, my lord?" he gasped out
after a few moments. "You have declared this combat to be mortal,
but I would yet hold my hand if you will release me and my lady
from our promises. You know our terms. I ask again: *will you
yield?*"

Tempos was unable to move his head much, lest he suffer a
self-inflicted laryngectomy, but he still managed to glance about
himself wildly, searching for a way out of his predicament. But,
unable to find one, and with his eyes repeatedly drawn against his
will to the sight of the unwavering sword hovering less than an
inch from his throat, he finally croaked out, "Yes... yes, damn
you!"

Charles immediately stepped away from the Baron and allowed him to
rise. Lady Loisette ran to him, closely followed by Friar Harry and
the rest of his band. The three time travellers hung back -- or,
rather, Lois and Wells hung back while Superman kept a wary eye on
Tempos; Clark still didn't trust him and had no intention of
letting him make a last-minute grab for Lady Loisette or a weapon.
One wrong move out of the Baron, and he'd see what this "Court
Jester" could *really* do!

However, Tempos seemed thoroughly cowed -- for the moment, anyway.
He glared at them all one final time, then turned and headed for
the trees at a gentle jog. If, as he left, he muttered threats and
curses under his breath, only Clark could have heard them, and he
didn't bother; there was a limit to how much he should interfere in
this past life, he thought, and Charles hardly needed advice to be
wary of the Baron not keeping his word.

Charles himself stood with one arm around his lady and watched
Tempos depart, shaking his head gently. His men were less
restrained, jeering and cat-calling after the Baron. One of them
nocked an arrow and took aim at the fleeing figure. Charles saw
this and called to him, wearily but sharply, "Enough, Alain! He has
yielded. He was a tyrant, but he was our suzerain, and we should
honour him for that alone. God knows there has been little enough
honour in his life; we must not deny him this final chance to
redeem himself!"

Alain looked suitably abashed, and turned away, replacing the arrow
in his quiver as Charles kneeled and cleaned his sword on the grass
once his foe entered the forest.

Lois and Clark came over to their other selves, Wells following.
Lois turned to her husband and said happily, "That's that. Now
everyone can go back to England, Charles and Loisette can get
married, and *we* can go home."

"You bet!" laughed Clark. He fell silent for a moment and seemed to
be thinking, and his face took on a long-suffering expression as he
went on, "Although... considering what *we* went through, I kinda
wonder if we ought to ride shotgun on those two until they're well
and truly married!"

"Good point..." murmured Lois. She looked apprehensive; considering
the hell that she and Clark had had to endure, not to mention all
the tribulations that their souls seemed destined to undergo for
their love in each incarnation, maybe they *had* better stick
around. She racked her brains -- what *else* could go wrong?

She sighed, suddenly tired. She wished her medieval counterpart
and her husband-to-be nothing but the best, but really, she'd had
enough of this time. They'd done their job, and she had a little
girl to look after, back in Metropolis. Of course, Wells could take
them back to the exact time that they'd left, so no-one, not even
her mother, would be able to accuse her of gallivanting around and
neglecting Laura -- and, come to think of it, Ellen and Martha were
the ones doing the gallivanting at the moment -- but Lois still
didn't want to hang around here any more.

Thinking of the time machine and its owner made her realise that
*he* could well have the answer to their worries. She caught his
eye and walked over to him, then leaned over to whisper, "Now,
you're sure nothing goes wrong when *they* get married, aren't
you?"

Wells blushed. "As far as I know, Mrs Kent. I certainly have no
intention of interrupting them as I had to do on *your* wedding
night."

"That'll do..." said Lois. "Does that mean that we can go home?"

"Why, yes. All is well, which means we *should* be going... after
we witness one final important event."

Lois, beginning to get fed up with the whole business, gave him her
best "what *now?*" look, and Wells smiled conspiratorially before
leaning over to say in a carrying stage whisper, "Sir Charles has
yet to actually *ask* the lady to marry him."

Loisette heard this and looked questioningly, and lovingly, at her
soon-to-be lord -- or so she hoped. Charles, by contrast, had yet
to smile, despite the attentions of his lady and his followers.
Lois turned and caught sight of him, and suddenly felt uneasy. If
*Clark* had had that expression on his face, she'd be expecting to
have to grapple with a bout of super-angst. What could possibly
have robbed Charles of his self-confidence when he'd just rescued
his love from the awful prospect of marriage to Tempos?

Loisette may also have recognised the signs and come to a similar
conclusion, for she raised one hand to Charles' face before saying,
"My love, be at ease. I know that you feel that a 'mere knight' is
not worthy of my hand... but I have this day been delivered from
imprisonment by one of 'noble' birth.

"Charles, these good people have worked wonders for us, that we may
wed. I could not, in good conscience, let their efforts be for
naught, not when their wish is my greatest desire also. I knew from
the moment that Lord Kal brought me to you that I must wed you, and
stay with you, though you remained outremer for all our days."

Charles looked shocked. "My lady," he stammered, "You would do
this? Your family, your lands...."

She smiled up at him. "...mean naught to me if you are not there to
share them." She turned to wave a hand at Lois and Clark, who were
again standing together, each with one arm around the other. "Look
at them, my love. Can you not *see?* These people are somehow, by
some miracle, ourselves, and they, too, have overcome great trials
to wed. But they *have* wed, and the joy that marriage has brought
them shines from them like the light of the sun. That joy is their
gift to us, that we may share in it and return it many-fold. How
can we refuse? Compared to that joy and the love which both
engenders it and is engendered by it, what are lands, what is
wealth and rank? Surely the most barren of earthly pleasures.

"No, Charles. I swore to marry Tempos to save you, though it meant
that my heart must break and my body suffer his embrace; that I
could endure, for the sake of you. Now, my heart will not be denied
a second time; though you were the poorest villein in the world, I
would marry you, for God knows that a love such as ours should
not-- *must* not -- be thwarted for the sake of mere empty wealth."

The stunned expression on Charles' face gradually faded, and he
dropped to one knee in front of her. Grasping her hand, he looked
into her eyes and said, in full earnest, "Since that is your wish,
my lady... then know that your lands, your wealth... all are as
nothing to me, save that they come together with gifts of true
worth -- your heart, your soul... your love. These will I cherish
for all the days of my life, and beyond... if you will have me...."

Loisette didn't bother to answer, but reached out to pull him up
and kissed him.

Lois and Clark had been keeping quiet and standing almost
motionless while Loisette said her piece, but at the sight of
"themselves" kissing, they glanced at each other and went to do
likewise. But after a brief, if tender, brush of lips, they looked

back at Charles and Loisette, who were now surrounded by the Fox's
Men, all rejoicing at the good fortune of their leader and his
beloved. No-one was paying the slightest attention to the three
time travellers, so Lois signalled to Wells and they quietly
disappeared into the forest.

Once out of sight of the others, Clark scooped up Lois and Wells,
and they flew over the trees to another clearing some way away.
After they touched down, Wells began to fumble in his pockets.
Before he'd found what he was looking for, however, the
now-customary flash of light heralded the arrival of Doctor Fate.

"Sit, Please. Now That Your Efforts Have Been Successful, And None
Save Us Can Hear, I May Speak Of The Events Of Today And Their
Meaning For The Future."

Despite her previous wish to return home, Lois couldn't resist
this, so she and the men sat quickly and settled down to listen.
The tale they heard was not short, spanning as it did over a
thousand years, and could well have been the basis of a multi-part
literary epic. The gist of it was that, left unchecked, Tempos'
sorcerer would have gained more and more mystical power as time
passed, and, as that power grew, so too would that of his master.
Eventually, the Baron, with the sorcerer's help, would try to usurp
the throne.

"His Plot Failed, For There Are Subtle And Immensely Powerful
Mystic Safeguards Inherent In Kingship, Of Which The Baron And His
Sorcerer Knew Nothing. But, As They Failed, The Baron Commanded His
Sorcerer To Use His Remaining Power To Call Down A Terrible Curse
Upon The Souls Of The King And His Principal Captains. However, The
Sorcerer Had All But Exhausted His Strength In His Previous Attacks
On The King And His Men, And Was Only Able To Cast A Spell That
Would Take Effect 'When Next They Met.'"

The curse would lie dormant until both Tempos and the King and his
captains were reincarnated at the same time -- which did not happen
before the era of Utopia, when the Baron lived again as Tempus, and
his enemies as officers of the Utopian security forces. For over a
thousand years it slumbered, gradually gathering strength as time
passed. The defeat of Tempus Tex in the 19th century, and the
resulting righting of the balance between Good and Evil, had
slowed, but not stopped, the growth of its malign power.

That power waxed mightily with such a long time in which to grow,
but was never called upon because the souls of its intended victims
were not linked to those of Lois and Clark -- and thus to Tempus --
and so, by chance or design, did not encounter him in their
intermediate incarnations. Not until....

"Tempus, Unable To Destroy The Civilisation Which He Hates By
Striking At Its Founders -- *You*, Lois Lane And Clark Kent -- Or
Their Heirs, Decided To Conquer It, Using Troops And Equipment
Taken From Times And Alternate Dimensions Less Peaceful Than
'Boring' Utopia.

"But, As Ever, His Scheme Was To Fail. Tempus' Contempt For His
Time And Place Of Origin Blinded Him To The Simple Truth That Men
And Women, Even Those Of Utopia, Will Defend Their Home With All
That They Are And All That They Can Bring To The Fight. Against
That Strength And Determination, His Mutates And Technology Were
Insufficient To Carry The Day."

But the "victory" of the defenders was a Phyrric one. Tempus was
defeated, but the curse ensured that the cost was the destruction
of both the society and people of Utopia. And with them, so
perished humanity on Earth and much of the life on the planet. The
human race had spread to the stars by then, but its homeworld was
left a charred ruin on which little could survive.

"*That* Is What You Have Prevented Today. Your Deeds Are A Feat
Worthy Of Great Honour, Though None Of The Billions Who Would Have
Died, But Now Shall Live, Will Ever Be Aware That It Was Done. But
*We* Know...."

Lois and Clark looked at one another, their eyes wide. This was
pretty mind-boggling, even for them -- two people who were
accustomed to "saving the world" on a fairly regular basis. Neither
of them said anything, but each knew that the other was thanking
God that they'd agreed to help, and also that they'd managed to
pull it off.

Lois' eyes went past Clark to focus on Wells, who, she noticed, was
so pale that he could well be going to faint. Wells looked at Fate,
and then at his companions from the 20th century, and for a moment,
Lois was afraid he was going to break down and cry. He had thought
that he had known what was at stake in their efforts against the
Baron, but the scope of the danger to his adopted home was more
than he could have imagined.

He got up and moved away from everyone, obviously struggling to
maintain his composure, and Lois and Clark concentrated their
attention on Doctor Fate, so that their friend could recover his
equanimity. Fate, too, seemed to realise that a distraction would
be helpful, for he also rose, taking a few steps away from the
couple before turning back to face them and say, "As For Your Other
Question -- Who I Am... Who *We* Are... Can You Not Guess, Lois
Lane?"

And suddenly, Lois thought that she could. In fact, it now seemed
incredibly obvious -- almost as obvious as the true identity of
*another* costumed figure, once she'd worked it out. The way in
which the "man" had cocked his head, his laugh, the determination
and intensity that he had shown as he vanquished the sorcerer, the
way in which he'd arrived in the nick of time and then made to
leave as soon as his job was done -- even his build in the blue
tights; it was all so familiar. And, since she had been brought
here, to a field in France, seven or eight hundred years before
she'd been born, to help a previous incarnation of herself and her
husband and soul mate, it was no great stretch of the imagination
to realise that this cloaked and helmeted figure was....

"Us..." she said in amazement, "You're *us!* Mr Wells said that you
were a man and a woman joined together...." She looked at Clark,
her face glowing with an increasingly gleeful grin; he smiled back,
recognising her manner as the classic
Lois-putting-all-the-clues-together that he knew so well, and
delighted to see. "Don't you see, Clark? They must be another
incarnation of our souls!"

And so it proved to be. Fate's hands lifted to the golden helm and
raised it from his head... and the blue-and-yellow figure vanished
in another flash of light, to be replaced by two other figures --
a man and a woman, both with their arms raised, holding the helmet
between them. Their clothes were unusual -- sort of an ultra-modern
version of doublet-and-hose, with boots and a kind of tool-belt --
but their faces and forms looked *very* familiar.

The couple spent a moment just looking at each other, and turned
and walked over to the others, hand in hand. Later, Lois was to
wonder where the helmet had gone, but not even Clark was able to
answer that question. He hadn't been paying that much attention to
it, being rather more interested, as Lois herself had been, in the
people rather than their headgear, but, to the best of his
recollection, it was there... and then it wasn't!

The man -- who, of course, looked like Clark, except that his hair
was rather longer (as was that of his companion) -- held out his
hand to his counterpart. "Hello," he said, shaking hands, "We know
you, but you don't know *our* names. I'm Kent Nelson, and this is
my wife, Inza."

Clark did a slight double-take at the man's name, mostly because of
the coincidence (if that was what it was) of the Kent name. Lois
didn't seem to react to that; however, once everyone had exchanged
greetings, she had her own bone to pick regarding names. "Inza?"
she remarked curiously, "That's kind of unusual... not the name
itself, but that I-- *you* have it. From everything Mr Wells has
told us about our... other lives, we always seem to end up with
similar sorts of names. Hard 'C' names for Clark -- Charles,
Carlos... even Kent, I guess; same sound -- and 'L' names for me.
So why 'Inza'?"

Inza laughed at that. "Don't worry, Lois -- I can call you Lois,
can't I?" At Lois' nod, she continued, "It's a nickname. My real
name is Lindsey, but my baby sister used to call me Inza while she
was learning to talk, and it just stuck."

She shrugged resignedly, and Lois recognised her own reaction to
certain of Lucy's peccadilloes in the past. This gave her a pretty
good idea of who the "baby sister" must be, which was an
interesting thought -- but that could wait.

The two couples settled down and began to chat. Lois and Clark did
most of the talking at first; the Nelsons were pleasant enough, and
certainly curious about the 20th century, but rather reticent when
it came to discussing their own lives and era. Clark whispered to
a slightly frustrated Lois, whom he recognised as starting to
employ certain classic Lane interviewing techniques, that they were
probably concerned not to give away anything that might alter their
own past. That made sense, so the conversation turned to more
general topics.

Wells had regained his usual aplomb by now, and came over and sat
down between the women to join the discussion. Finally, after what
seemed like only a few minutes but, by the sun, must have been more
like hours -- either way, it was one of the most relaxing
afternoons that either Lois or Clark could remember (and later,
they wondered if that might have been Doctor Fate's way of saying
"thank you") -- Kent got to his feet and helped Inza up.

"It's time we were going, I'm afraid. Our job is done -- here, and
now -- but other eras and places require our attention. Duty is
always calling."

"Oh, yeah," muttered Clark. "I know all about *that* one..."

Kent smiled down at his wife, drew her close and gave her a hug --
one that, to Lois' eyes, looked very characteristic, being
virtually identical to the way in which Clark hugged her. Then he
cocked one eyebrow and held up the helmet, which had appeared as
silently and mysteriously as it had vanished. "Who wants to drive?"

Inza grinned back, obviously enjoying a private joke. "My turn,
isn't it?"

"Guess so, honey," Kent replied. He held out the helmet, and she
took it in both hands and closed her eyes. There was another flash
of yellow light, and Doctor Fate, now female, was there in place of
the couple.

"Farewell, Herbert George Wells. Farewell, Lois Lane And Clark
Kent. May We Meet Again, If It Is So Ordained, Under Happier
Circumstances. And Now, I *GO!*"

And she did, disappearing in a golden flare that momentarily
outshone the late afternoon sun.

No-one moved for several moments, nor did they speak... until Wells
took out a handkerchief and blew his nose, after which everyone's
attention came back to the here and now. Wells replaced the
handkerchief and reached into another pocket, pulling out his
signal device. His fingers moved over it and the time machine
appeared. He climbed aboard and waved a hand at his companions.
"Here we are. Do sit down, and I'll take you back."

                    *         *         *

The time machine materialised back in Metropolis at 11 a.m. on the
same day that it left. Lois, suddenly cold after the warmth of the
summer evening that they'd left, invited Wells in for a cup of tea
or coffee, but he declined and she didn't press the point. She was
glad that everything had turned out okay, but Wells *was* something
of a bird of ill-omen, only turning up when trouble beckoned. It
wasn't his fault -- *he* wanted to let them live out their lives
undisturbed, and only became involved when someone like Tempus
interfered -- but she couldn't help but resent him, just a little.
Wells left for his own era immediately, and Clark and Lois went
inside.

"So, what would you like to do today?" asked Clark a little while
later. "Still want to go to Centennial Park?"

"No-o-o..." said Lois, her eyes narrow and her voice sultry, "I
think I've had enough outdoor activity for the time being. I feel
more like playing a game -- say, Knights and Ladies...."

"Oh, yes," replied Clark, catching on but enjoying bandying words
with his wife. "And just what is involved in this game..?"

"Well-ll... it occurred to me that it was kinda important in those
days for the consummation of a marriage to be witnessed -- as a
sort of testimony that the couple were irrevocably bound to one
another....."

"Don't tell me... We never got to see Charles and Loisette marry,
but since we have their souls, we can 'witness' the consummation
all by ourselves, in the privacy of our own home -- just so long as
we do it before our moms get back with Laura."

"Clever boy..." cooed Lois as she walked towards the stairs. She
stopped at the foot and began to unbutton her blouse, looking back
provocatively over her shoulder at Clark, still lounging in an
armchair. "Well, my lord..?"

Lois squealed as Clark flashed towards her at super-speed, scooped
her up, flew up the stairs and dumped her on the bed. She might
have protested, but her mouth was covered by his and she had much
more interesting things to do than complain....

The End

[As promised, in case you had trouble understanding some of the
medieval words in this story, here's a quick glossary:

Azure: blue (used in heraldry -- literally, "sky-coloured")
Churl: another word for a serf or peasant, with the implication of
uncouth behaviour, as in the modern "churlish"
Garderobe: a castle's lavatory, so called because clothes were hung
in there as well (!)
Gules: red (used in heraldry -- literally, "blood-coloured")
Halberd: a "pole-arm", or kind of spear, with a complex head
consisting of an axe-blade with a spike at the back and a thrusting
point at the front
Nithing: an insignificant person (with an implication of stupidity)
Outremer: overseas; literally, "out of the realm"
Scry: to "far-see", usually using a device like a bowl of ink or a
mirror -- magic telescopic vision, if you like
Surcoat: a tunic worn over armour, displaying the heraldic arms of
the person wearing it, or their lord. Used to identify people (so
you could tell who to fight )
Suzerain: the lord or sovereign by whose authority a lesser lord or
knight held their lands and/or rank
Villein: a serf, or a "land-slave"; someone who is a tenant of a
piece of land, and who "rents" it by working on it.]

    Source: geocities.com/~chiefpam/Season6/episodes

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